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#mor gifs gap
liyazaki · 1 year
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use the balm. what for? so many questions- I’ll do it for you.
GAP THE SERIES | EP. 5 [2022-2023]
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piningintrovert · 1 year
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You were upset with me yesterday. Let's make up. GAP THE SERIES (2022), dir. Nuttapong Wongkaveepairoj
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sinsofsummers · 10 months
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cool about it
3.4k | boston!joel miller x f!reader
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summary: it’s that day again. you don’t know why joel’s so withdrawn, but you help him manage it in the best way you know how. based on 'cool about it' by boygenius. warnings: angst angst angst, angsty smut (sorry), 18+, mdni, implied age gap (joel 50s, reader late 20s) grumpy & sad joel, drug use, alcohol use, oral (m receiving), p in v, creampie, shoulder kisses, pet names & slight praise, body worship kind of, feelings but also joel is bad at feelings, established...situationship. thing. pining (but don't tell them that). romance?? how dare you accuse them of such treachery note: i am so sorry...this is pure unbridled self-indulgence. pls forgive me. also this is set in boston qz, reader and joel have a similar relationship to the one he has with tess, but she doesn't exist in this au (i'm so sorry). also i am kind of so proud of this one
It's been years since you met him, since you've begun to crack his otherwise hard exterior, helping him shed every icy layer to reveal the tired, aging man beneath it all. You've both gone to unbelievable lengths to protect one another against any trouble, or enemy, or plague, that has cast itself in your way. Each night concludes with your limbs tangled together, hands tucked safely within each other's reach. A promise, so quiet it's hardly binding—I've got you.
You've never defined exactly what it means when he calls you sweet pea, or when his lips drop a chaste kiss to your forehead in the morning, or when his hand lingers on your elbow a little longer than normal in the QZ. It never needed to mean anything, so the two of you never spoke about it. You belong to him; he belongs to you.
And yet, every year, on the exact same morning, Joel Miller wakes up a stranger to you. His eyes return to the icy dark depths that you met him with, and his hands find purchase in his pockets rather than absentmindedly rubbing circles on your skin. Every year, without fail, he retreats to his past, a place he won't ever let you see, despite your every wish.
i came prepared for absolution, if you'd only ask
A few years after you met him, you had tried asking him to explain, to let you into his head. It wasn't an attempt at intimacy, or a vulnerability that resembled anything that you hadn't seen from him before, but he'd done nothing more than shake his head.
"M'fine," he'd said. The entire day, every time you asked, no matter how softly, his answer remained unchanged. "Don't feel much like talkin'."
So instead of talking, you'd resorted to letting him come back to you on his own time, in his own way. With rough hands pushing you down to lay on your back, his eyes far away even as he brought you to the edges of bittersweet ecstasy. His kisses were always softer, more distracted. But it was the only communication you ever got out of him on those days.
When he rolled over at night, his hands curled into loose fists, you let him be. He never refused your touch, but you knew enough to recognize when it wouldn't come as any comfort to him. Not on those nights. Never on those nights.
The closest you'd get to falling asleep in his arms on those nights was with a hand placed purposefully between your chest and his back, just close enough that he might lean into it, should he shift in his sleep. And in those soft brushes of skin against cloth lay a million questions.
Forgive me, you'd begged inwardly one night. Forgive me for not understanding, and I'll forgive you for not sharing.
When the sun rose on a new morning, he was always back to the man you were used to, that you had grown dependent on. When his hands reached for you, and when his mouth painted swirls on your chest, you knew that it was out of want for you, not to distract himself from the ghosts of his own past.
He always praised your body's reaction to him, and you always relished in the way that his hips rocked against yours, stretching you out for him—tongue, fingers, his hard intrusion—on those mornings after.
You'd left it at that, for a year or two.
once i took your medication to know what it's like
He'd been resorting to more intense solutions when you decided to do it. When that day came as it always did, you watched as he drowned out the hours with whiskey and pills. You never knew where his supply came from or who was responsible for getting him his drug of choice; you could only sit idly by and watch his features droop from the effects of the dangerous combination, shuffling to your shared bed before he'd pass out until the sun rose on the next morning.
It only took three instances of this before you'd resolved to go through the day exactly as he would, as if it might help you understand. Perhaps it wasn't anything you were meant to understand, but you'd grown weary of seeing him motionless for hours on end. Usually, you never said anything. You didn't really believe he would take enough to cause any real damage; you were blindly faithful in his will to live.
"Joel," you'd said one year. That was all. One syllable, so familiar, and yet it bled with enough warning in your tone that he paused. Don't.
Glass raised, the rim already pressed to his lips—the lips of which you knew every crack and curve—pills already dissolving on his tongue, he'd paused. His eyes never looked at you, though. He sat there, frozen but for the whiskey sloshing gently in the glass before he resumed, swallowing the dark liquid in one go. With hardly a glance in your direction, he'd collapsed to the bed.
You didn't know exactly why you did it, or why it had been that year that you'd become fed up, but you couldn't ignore the fear that struck your chest when you saw him hit the mattress. Before you knew it, you'd swallowed the pills, scowling at the burn of whiskey down your throat.
It had never been your choice of liquor, but you braved the sting in your foolish hopes that it might tell you something about the gray-haired man in your bed. Like drinking his whiskey might envelope you in his arms and whisper his secrets to you.
Laying down beside him, you'd curled up to his side. He was already deep in his drugged slumber; he wouldn't be conscious enough to move from your touch. With a hand on his chest, poised over his heart to reassure yourself that he still had one, you closed your eyes and succumbed to the heavy press of sleep.
When he woke, saw your own empty glass and pill bottle left open on the table, he shook you until you startled awake. Eyes bleary, the effects of the drugs wearing off, you caught him staring down at you, his nose brushing your cheek and his lips a hair's breadth from touching yours.
"Don't ever fuckin' do that again, sweet pea," he snarled, but his words held no malice. You tried to ignore how big his eyes were, pupils blown wide.
You'd wanted to snap at him, to tell him the same thing, but you heard the desperate begging in his voice. The unspoken please. So rather than causing a scene, you'd nodded slowly and let your fingers brush the hem of his shirt. "Okay," you'd whispered. "I won't. Never again, Joel," you repeated, a mantra as you slipped your hands underneath his shirt.
Sliding his arms under your body and pulling you to him, he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, then your cheeks, both of your eyelids. He finally bent to your lips, chasing the taste of you and finding only his own mistakes on your tongue.
The day had passed. He had survived. With the gentle lull of his hips slotting against your own, he had breathed shakily into your mouth as your hands wandered along his skin. Like clockwork, Joel Miller had returned to you, if only for a short while.
i ask you how you're doing, and i let you lie
One day, the pills ran out. The whiskey didn't do anything on its own, so Joel was stuck to find something else to distract him. Whether you were the one that flushed his pills or found who was supplying him, you'd never admit. It was much too close to a confession of something than either of you were comfortable with, so you'd stayed quiet. Helped him find a new vice.
These days, you've lost count of how many years you've seen him withdraw into himself, a shell of the man you know. You've stopped trying to follow where his mind goes when the sun rises on that early autumn day, and he's never made the attempt to explain. For just one day a year, the two of you are silent except for a few mumbled words. Your hands rarely touch on those days, always a few centimeters from each other as he sits at the table.
A reminder. That you're there, that he's there, and that the day will pass. It always does.
His new vice becomes you before long, and you can manage that. He's never particularly rough on those days, anyway; he just needs your body to distract his mind. It takes him a bit to sink into the comfort of your curves, but you always help him get there. Until he's twitching under your hands and letting his eyes flutter closed as you expertly undo his jeans.
You never make him fuck you when he's like this, but you're happy to oblige when he slips a hand between your thighs, reaching for your core and always finding it ready for him. If it pleases him, you let him take whatever he needs.
With whispered moans that make your chest constrict and rough fingers pressing bruises to your hips that he'll kiss away the next morning, he gets through the day.
Today, you know it's not one of those mornings. He's already been awake for a while when you open your eyes, based on his tense posture as he sits on the edge of the bed. He's facing the window, which means his back is to you, withholding his face from yours.
Of course, you don't need to look at him to know what his face will look like. His chin is tucked toward his chest, and his eyes will be closed, hands clenched together as if in prayer. But you know better than to think of Joel Miller as a spiritual man. Whatever faith he might have had all those years ago has withered into scraps. His only faith is in your constant presence in his bed each night.
You sit up slowly, and the sound of rustling sheets makes him twitch his head to the side, the sight of his jaw ticking the only acknowledgement of you being there. With slow movements, you move to sit behind him, your legs on either side of his hips but never close enough to touch. He's gotten better at allowing for a few more moments of contact, and you think this means he's making progress.
How could you ever be sure, though? When he still won't reveal the pain of today?
"Did you wake up to see the sunrise?" you ask gently, leaning forward and bracing your hands in front of you, waiting. His response will determine how you'll distract him for the coming hours.
As usual, Joel doesn't say anything, but his back reclines an inch. It's all you need.
"I'll bet it was real pretty," you continue, trying to keep your voice soft. This is one of your many routines; you lift your hands and press them to his back, just enough for him to feel your fingertips. You don't know if he listens to anything you say, or if he even cares. This part is just for you. This is how you get through these days.
You lean just a bit further, letting your forehead rest on his shoulder. Your hands slide around his middle and your stomach flips selfishly at the feeling of his muscles tensing beneath your featherlight touch. Reaching down for his lap, you rest your palm against his jeans, feeling him twitch against your hand. There he is.
Maybe it's sad, maybe it's fucked up, but fuck what anyone else would say. This is what he needs, the only thing that helps him stay out of his nightmarish memories, whatever they may be. You'll never ask him to show that side of himself, not anymore.
Pressing a kiss to his shoulder, you deftly work the button on his jeans, pushing the zipper down and reaching into his waistband until his half-hard cock comes free. It rests heavy in your hand, and you're comforted by the weight of it. His shoulders are too broad for you to see it, but you're not bothered by this. With another kiss, this one landing on the soft skin of his neck, you give him a languid stroke.
Joel's chest rises and falls as he breathes, and you can feel his arousal stirring as he grows firmer in your grip. His hands begin to unclench, but his fingers remain flat on his tights, never touching you outside of where your legs are hooked to his, your chest flush with his back.
The room is silent except for his breathing, every second getting more shallow. You can feel the tension in his back release a little, and you let your thumb rub a slow circle over the slit on his tip, precum just starting to leak onto your hand.
You stay like this for a few minutes, one arm wrapped around his stomach and your other hand on his cock, tugging slow enough not to overwhelm him, and fast enough to keep him pulsing in your hand.
Only when his hips buck involuntarily do you let go, moving from your place behind him to the floor. Your knees hit the wood hard, but you ignore the pain as your hands slide up his thighs.
His own hands remain still on his jeans, and he lets you interlock your fingers with his own. A small mercy. Today might not be as bad as the years before, and you dip your head to lick a stripe from base to tip before closing your mouth around the head of his cock.
Joel's fingers twitch in your grasp, and you squeeze back, hardly noticeable. Just enough to act as thanks. Thank you for letting me do this. For you.
You never look up, afraid of what his eyes will betray when your mouth is around him. You know this is only a distraction, a slow respite from his thoughts. So you ignore the impatient pulse between your thighs and take him as deep as he'll go, your hopes lifting when you hear his shaky sighs.
One of his hands released yours and lands on your head, smoothing your hair as his hips fight to keep still. Your head bobs up and down, your spit mixing with his precum to leave a shining mess on his shaft.
He pats your head softly, the wet sounds of your mouth on him the only noise in the room. But then he's opening his mouth, and he's combing his fingers through your hair, and he's mumbling, "thank you, sweet pea," just quiet enough that you think you're imagining it.
Maybe you did. He doesn't say it again, and you don't look up to see how wrecked he looks. You're content to remain on your knees the entire day if it means he can relax, let go of whatever's haunting him.
But then he's pulling your head back, his cock leaving your mouth with a wet pop. Hands under your arms, he tugs you to stand in front of him. This time you do let yourself look at him, but his eyes don't lift to meet yours. He tugs your shorts and panties from your body, and once you step out of them he splays his hands on the backs of your thighs to pull you onto his lap.
His head is still tipped toward where your bodies rest against each other, rocking your pelvis against the length of his cock with a shuddering sigh. But you don't mind the view; you sit just a few inches taller than him in this position, so you can brace yourself against his shoulders, your chin resting against the top of his head.
He reaches down to rub a few quick circles on your clit, and you let him move your hips when he's ready, lodging his cock at your entrance. You're dripping, you have been this entire time, but you'd shoved down the heady desire that had punched its way through your body until he was ready. Now, with his hand guiding his tip into your sopping cunt, you let out a breath. There he is, a voice in your head repeats.
He pushes your hips down at an agonizingly slow pace, your pussy swallowing every inch of him, the sounds of your moans colliding at the feeling. "So good to me," he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your sternum and tilting his head back, closing his eyes. "Perfect."
You know that he doesn't think he deserves your praise, but you give it to him anyway. "That's it," you hum, squirming with his cock buried to the hilt. It's all you can do not to lift your hips and drag yourself up and down his length. "Take what you need, Joel."
He never lasts long when he can feel your walls squeezing his cock for all it's worth, your body betraying you when your mind just wants to remain warm and wet and ready for him all day long, until he's ready to be done with you. But with one look at you, his dark eyes finally connecting to yours, he blinks. "Thank you, sweat pea," he murmurs again.
You lift your thumb to his forehead and you trace the lines on his weathered skin, watching as your touch releases the tension from his face. All that's left is his desire, his need for you, however distracted it may be.
Joel lets himself enjoy this, as he rocks his hips into yours, the head of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you until you're shaking in his hands, forehead tipped against his as you let your moans fill the space between the two of you. He lifts your hips, pulling you nearly all the way off of him until he shoves you back down, the delicious squelch of your pussy on his cock wrenching a knee-buckling groan from his lips. "Where?" he asks, as he does every time.
You don't need to tell him, but you do. "Fill me up, Joel," you coo, a shot of pleasure spreading throughout your entire body. "Come with me, I'm right here with you."
"That's it, darlin'," is all he groans before he's wrapping his arms around your back, tugging your chest to him in a tight embrace. His face disappears into the space between your breasts and you feel his entire body quiver with yours as you reach your peak. Warmth floods your core as he spills his release into you, your walls fluttering with the intensity of your orgasm. You pull him to you, returning his near-painful embrace.
You're as close as lovers, as close to one another as you can physically get, but it'll never be enough.
The high after he comes inside you is fleeting. Only a few minutes pass before the line inevitably returns to his brow and his frown deepens after he softens. He doesn't lift you off of him, though, so you soak up the feeling while you can.
"Better?" you whisper, eyes locked on his.
He nods slowly after a moment, his mouth set in a grim line. "Always," he mumbles gently, his hand cupping your jaw as his thumb strokes your bottom lip. He presses his thumb into your mouth to the first knuckle, letting you taste salt and old sweat and your nectar on his skin.
You know better than to believe him, but you don't argue. Not today, never today. So you lift the corners of your lips in a sad smile and pretend that it doesn't feel like water rising in your lungs every time this day comes.
but we don't have to talk about it
i can walk you home and practice method acting
i'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning
tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing
even though we know it isn't true
Joel will never tell you what's on his mind. Never today. September 26th won't ever mean anything to you, so why would he bother? For him, it's everything and nothing all at once. Brown curls and sparkling young eyes and blood crusted on his arms and the unforgettable weight of death in his arms.
Another year older, he sighs, his heart clenching in grief. Another year older, and another year further from everything he's lost.
tysm for reading, here's a box of tissues. :') i love u all
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nickfowlerrr · 1 year
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This picture has ruined me. Now I need a fic with Bucky as your professor banging you in the library during regular hours.
clear your mind
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pairing: professor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader
words: 7.5k
warnings: 18+ ONLY. smut. public sex. cockwarming. student/teacher relations. possible age gap depending on how you read it (reader is at least 25 or older but it’s not really specified and bucky is late 30s or older but again, not specified. imagine whatever you like.) i added an alternate kind of darkish ending that is separated with a divider near the end (duh) but of course you can choose to not read it and stick to the original cute ending lol. if i’m missing anything you feel needs to be added, please let me know.
notes: disclaimer: i never technically went to college so i don’t really know what i’m writing about lmao but when i say this was instant inspo, i mean instant. i’ve been in such a funk since i lost chapter four of keeping secrets, but this really ignited something in me so i just went for it. it was originally gonna be a little smutty drabble but then i started writing and it just became a whole one shot - not that i’m complaining lol. this was so fun to write, thank you @sammyisfat for sending it in! 🖤 i hope you all enjoy it! as always, feedback and comments are welcome and appreciated. and thank you in advance for reading and reblogging!
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You were sitting hunched over, eyes scanning the same sentence repeatedly, trying to force yourself to focus. You were reading the words but you weren’t really putting them together. You were too bored to make them make sense. Your brain was far off and you were sure you were about to burn out completely at this point.
Why you thought going back to school after so long was a good idea was beyond you. Was the degree really worth it? You’d gotten this far without one, hadn’t you?
As you were contemplating your life choices, and working on convincing yourself to just screw it and drop out, you’d failed to notice the presence of two of your professors passing by.
You had been alone at the far back of the library, closed in by the sturdy cases of books around you, for so long you’d nearly forgotten you were actually there. You had needed solitude, lest the chatter of other students in study groups or working on projects distract you further than your mind already did on its own. Your back was to the open aisle so as not to get distracted by anyone passing by, either. The zone you were occupying was normally a hot spot, but on a Wednesday afternoon, not so much. And for that you were grateful.
The knock on the bookcase next to you accompanied by your name being called, almost in question, startled you as you quickly corrected your posture and looked toward the noise, adjusting the glasses you were wearing as you did. You were greeted with two pairs of blue eyes looking back at you. Standing next to the bookcase, waiting for your response were two of the most lusted after professors on campus. And that wasn’t just you thinking so. The way students fawned over both Mr. Barber and Barnes was near juvenile. They were like kids gossiping about their crushes in elementary school. It was always funny to you seeing the line of people waiting to speak with Andy at the end of class every Wednesday and Friday, whether they had a genuine question to ask or not. You couldn’t say you didn’t get it, though. He had great hair, a soft smile, kind eyes.. He was gorgeous. It was clear why so many people had a thing for him. But you always found yourself a little more than preoccupied with thoughts of Mr. Barnes. Though they were both at least six foot tall and unfairly attractive, easy enough to spread your attention between both of them, as most of their students did, there was just something about James that had you in a hold since the first day you met him.
It was your first day on campus and you’d accidentally bumped into him with your green tea as you were leaving the small corner cafe after your first morning class. You apologized profusely, but he’d claimed it was his fault, that he wasn’t watching where he was going. He insisted on buying you a new drink as he removed his tea damp jacket. You didn’t fight him on it, walking back into the cafe as he held the door for you. You introduced yourselves as you waited for the drinks to be made and spoke a bit. It wasn’t a super long interaction, both of you having places you had to be, but you would have sworn there was something there. And the glimmer in his eye as he smiled and told you he’d see you around convinced you it wasn’t one sided. You were instantly smitten, hopeful you would see him again, that maybe it could lead to getting to know him better, lead to something more.
That was until you walked into your afternoon class the next day to find him standing at a podium, setting up his orientation slides. You had been hoping all day to run into him, but this was certainly not how you’d been imagining the circumstances. Of course he was your professor. You breathed a humorless laugh to yourself as you found a seat. You got your laptop out and looked back up at the same time he looked up from his, making direct eye contact with him. You saw the instant he recognized you and gave him a tight lipped smile that he returned before you diverted your gaze back down. His look of disappointment matched your own, but at the very least, it made you feel wanted.. The “professor x student” trope was never really your cup of tea, but as the weeks went by, the stolen glances and secret longing stares you exchanged were starting to change your mind. After one particular heated night of self pleasure, absentmindedly picturing him while you were reveling in your own touch, imagining it was his, you knew you were really gone for him. And heaven help you, the idea of it really happening was growing hotter and hotter the more you told yourself you couldn’t. Imagining showing up to his office hours one evening and just letting him have you any way he liked. Letting him take you apart on his desk, or sucking him off under his desk while he works. God, you’d daydreamed so many scenarios.
You just couldn’t bring yourself to act on any of it. You didn’t know how to. More importantly, you knew you shouldn’t. It wasn’t like you were some barely legal star eyed student he’d be taking advantage of, but still, you were his student. You weren’t sure how that dynamic might play out or the optics of it for either of you. Instead you willed yourself to stay focused on the work, to keep your thoughts set on passing the course and that was all.
Even when you would find yourself needing actual help from him or needing to ask him about an assignment, you would always talk yourself out of it. You didn’t want to let yourself be alone with him, you couldn’t be trusted. You were worried you’d make a fool of yourself the second you got the chance. So instead, you’d get help from a classmate if you could or you’d end up just winging it. It had been working that far.
The real problem started just last week. This most recent section was challenging to say the least. You had tried the study group offered on Monday nights, but you got absolutely nothing done.
Your last essay assignment had been returned to you on Friday with a note on it, asking you to come by his office hours before the next class. You had been putting it off all week, but knew you’d have to go by Thursday. You just weren’t expecting to see him around any earlier than that.
“Professors,” you greeted, slightly taken aback.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Mr. Barber apologized. “Thought you might’ve heard us walking up.”
“I was uh, lost in the text, I guess,” you replied, giving them an awkward smile.
“Well, I’m glad someone’s reading it,” he laughed.
“Do you mind if we join you?” he continued, motioning to the otherwise empty table you were sitting at the end of. It was big enough to seat at least 8 people easily and it’d, of course, be rude of you to try and keep it for yourself. But what would they need to be in the library for anyway? The question must have been written on your face as Mr. Barnes answered it for you.
“The heat isn’t working in our offices. We’re just grading some work.”
“Right, yeah, of course. Go for it.”
“Thank you,” Andy smiled.
They took seats at the other end of the table, surely trying to avoid distracting you. You appreciated the gesture, but it was futile. As they worked on grading papers, they were talking and laughing every so often and even if they hadn’t been, their presence alone was not at all aiding you in your attempt to focus on schoolwork.
You’d given up trying to finish the passage you’d been reading and instead pretended to start making notes in your laptop. In all actuality, you were really just googling alternative career paths and the question: “Do you really need a college degree to be successful?”.
Thirty minutes later, Andy’s phone went off and he began to gather his things, telling Mr. Barnes, who he called ‘Bucky’, that he had a lecture in 45 minutes but he’d see him later.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Andy pointed at you as he passed by.
“Bright and early,” you affirmed with a nod and a small smile.
“Have a good night,” he smiled back.
“You too,” you returned.
The second he was gone, you became fully aware that you were now alone with Professor Barnes, the situation you’d been trying to avoid for the past almost three months. Despite your efforts, your entire focus was being pulled to the man just down the table from you. He was still grading, in the middle of someone’s essay as you glanced over to him. You admired the quirk of his brow as he read and how his tongue jutted out to lick his lip as his eyes scanned the words on the page. You pulled your gaze away from him and back to your laptop, deciding to close it and put it away, begrudgingly returning to your textbook. Just one more hour. You had promised yourself 2 hours of studying today minimum, you were halfway there. You could do it.
Not ten minutes later you heard the flipping of paper and glanced over to see he’d just finished the paper he was on, writing the grade on top of the first page. You looked back to your text just as he slid the paper down the table to you. You furrowed your brows as you watched it slide into your book. You saw the “C-” he had given it circled in red ink and immediately recognized the title. Your lips parted and you clicked your tongue as you looked back up to meet his eye.
“Anyone else that would’ve been a D,” he told you, sounding slightly disappointed. “Your work is normally a lot better than what you’ve been turning in lately. That’s why I asked you to come by my office hours.”
“Yeah, I- uh. I don’t know, I’ve just been having a hard time with this section,” you explained. “And I wasn’t ignoring your note, I was planning to see you on Thursday.”
“Well, we’re both here now, right?” he said and you nodded.
“Good a time as any,” you shrugged.
He got up and moved his stuff down the table to take the seat next to you. You closed your textbook and straightened up in your chair. Nerves eating at you as he sat and turned to angle himself towards you.
“My main concern isn’t really about you understanding the materials, all the concepts are there in your work, it's just..lackluster. Sloppily written, a bit jumbled here and there. Nothing like what you had been turning in at the start of the semester,” he said. “Are you sure it’s the section you’re having a hard time with?”
You looked at him for a moment, not really knowing what to say.
“What else would I be having a hard time with?” you questioned quietly.
It was his turn to look at you for a moment as he thought about how to word his response. He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it before he finally spoke.
“You’ve seemed more and more distracted during class lately. I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he said sincerely, his blue eyes gleaming into yours. He was already close, but you suddenly found yourself mindlessly leaning closer to him. You took a breath as you sat back, licking your lips ever so lightly without realizing as you looked away.
“I’m okay,” you told him. “Sorry I’ve seemed distracted. Well, uhm, been distracted. I don’t know why I’ve been having such a hard time focusing on this,” you lied, “but I appreciate your concern. I’ll work on being more present. And putting more effort into my writing.”
He smiled softly and nodded before he turned back in his seat, returning to his pile of papers.
You bit your lip as you sat there. Of course you knew why you were so distracted, but you couldn’t just tell him it was because of him.
“You know there’s a study group you can sign up for,” he said as he was still looking down, reading the new paper in front of him, red pen in hand.
“Yeah, I know. I just, uh, work better in smaller groups,”
“Alone isn’t exactly a group,” he lightly smirked with a slight tilt of his head.
“I’ve never really had the best focus when it comes to studying, anything. I get off topic and then I get everyone else off topic and then we end up having spent the entire session debating something trivial, like who the best Batman is,” you said.
“Christian Bale,” he responded.
“Obviously,” you agreed with a smile. “But uhm, yeah. Less distractions the better, so I try to avoid big groups. Though I’ll admit, just trying to stay focused on my own is a feat in and of itself,” you laughed lightly.
“Sounds like you just need someone other than yourself to hold you accountable. Have you thought about one on ones? I offer tutoring sessions that no one seems to want to take me up on,” he laughed. “I have three one hour sessions all still open for tonight, actually.. Not that you need tutoring, but you could use the time to work on your assignments without distractions - and I'd be there, of course, if you need any help.”
You told yourself to say no. You really did..
“Well it couldn’t hurt, right?” you breathed, a small smile on your lips. Just then the clock chimed three, drawing both of your attention.
“I have a class in twenty, I have to get going. But I’ll be in my office from five to eight, you can come whenever. Like I said, no one else has signed up, so whenever you can make it. Hopefully the heat should be working by then.”
“Okay,” you agreed. “Thank you, Professor.”
“Please, James is more than fine,” he told you. “I’ll see you later.”
When he left, you packed up your things - letting yourself off the hook for your two hour promise. You were gonna be studying later now, anyway so it wasn’t like you just checking out for the day. Your apartment wasn’t too far from campus, so you drove home and decided you’d head back around 6.
You made yourself a late lunch/early dinner and then got your things together for when you’d leave. You figured you had time for a quick nap, so you laid down on the couch with the tv still playing in the background. After about 45 minutes, you woke up feeling more flustered than you had felt all week. You were starting to regret your quick agreement to his one on one offer, but you couldn’t just not show up now. You were getting yourself worked up over nothing, you were sure. Really what could you do that would be so bad? It’s not like you were planning on seducing the man. You’d probably just ask him to review the essay you’d been working on that would be turned in at the next class and ask for clarification on the requirements for the part of your midterm paper you’d been confused about for the past two weeks. You probably wouldn’t even stay the whole hour.
Checking the time, you decided to head back to campus. You’d get to his office a little after 5 and you’d be home by 6:30 at the latest. It’d be fine.
As you walked up to the sturdy oak door that led to his office, two cups of coffee in hand, your nerves started anew. You took a second before you knocked lightly. A few moments later, the door was pulled open as he greeted you, ushering you in.
“I got you a coffee,” you offered with a smile.
“That’s very much needed, thank you,” he smiled back, taking the drink you’d extended to him. “Please, have a seat.”
You took the only chair across from his desk as he sat.
“So, I was wondering if you’d be able to go over my essay for this week. See if it’s missing anything, or if it needs to be rewritten entirely,” you laughed nervously.
“Yeah, of course,”
“Great,” you breathed, “I just emailed you a copy.”
He pulled it open on his screen and you watched for a moment as he began reading before you pulled out your laptop to work more on your midterm. You couldn’t focus though. Not with him right across from you. The little noises he’d make as he read caught your attention repeatedly and when you’d glance up, you’d find yourself admiring the shape of his face, the quirk of his lips, the squinting of his eyes.
“The whole point of this is so that you have no distractions,” he said as he continued reading before turning to look at you. “Something distracting you?” he asked, his eyes finding your own with something akin to a playful glimmer shining in them.
You opened your mouth to speak but you just shook your head instead, taking a steadying breath.
“No,” you answered after a second. He looked at you hard.
“You sure about that?” he asked again.
“No,” you repeated softly.
“Well since you can’t seem to focus on what you’re working on, why don’t you come over here and we’ll go over this together.”
You stared at him, gawking before your body finally moved. You stood up and he did the same, pulling his chair back for you to sit in as you rounded the desk. He pushed you back in and then leaned down behind you so he was at the same height you were, looking at the screen.
You were stiff and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. He was so close. And he smelled so good. And he was so pretty. God, you didn’t know what to do. You really couldn’t focus, even as he read your words aloud and went over a line you’d blubbed.
“Are you listening to me?” he asked, standing to his full height as he spun the chair around, looking down at you. Your eyes immediately landed on his crotch before you quickly looked away, trying to not look so flustered.
“Sorry,” you eked out.
“It’s obvious you have something on your mind. You’re clearly distracted,” he said, finding your eye. “I think you just need to clear your head to find your focus.”
“Right, well, I don’t really know how to do that,” you breathed.
“Why don’t you let me try to help,” he returned softly as he leaned down and grabbed your chin, tilting your face up to meet his as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours.
You were definitely not expecting this to happen, but you weren’t upset in the least. His lips were soft and he tasted like coffee. Your hand found his hair as you pulled him closer to you, the gentle kiss turning into something hungrier the longer it went on. He pulled away suddenly and pulled you out of his chair before taking his seat and pulling you down onto his lap just as quickly, his lips returning to yours the instant he had you on him. Your arm wound itself around his neck as your other cupped his jaw, keeping his face close to you as he held you close to him.
Slowly, his hand traveled under your sweater and along your waist, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. He easily slipped his tongue into your mouth, eliciting a moan from you as he did. You felt his erection growing as you sat on his lap, smiling into the kiss as you teasingly rubbed against him, earning a groan from him in response. He broke away from you for a moment as you both caught your breath, “Tell me if you want to stop,” was all he said before he maneuvered you with ease. He sat you on the edge of his desk while he took your boots off before he pulled your leggings down your thick thighs, his touch sending chills through you as he did.
He made quick work of his trousers, pulling them down before he took himself out of his briefs. He sat back down on his chair as he looked at you with lust filled eyes. “Stand up,” he told you. When you were standing before him, he pulled you close by your wide set hips before his fingers hooked the band of your thong, dragging it down until they were past your thighs and dropped to your ankles. “Step out of them, sweetheart.”
You did as he said before he pulled you closer and got you onto the chair, positioning you so you straddled his lap, barely hovering above his hard cock. You were breathing heavily as your hands grasped his shoulders and his hands held your fleshy hips. He looked up at you like he was waiting for your permission and so you nodded softly down at him. He gripped himself with one hand and moved the tip of his cock along your wet slit, you gasped in unison at the feeling. He took his time and just played with you a bit until you were moaning, whining above him. Your eyes squeezed shut as he circled your clit before he moved to finally align his cock up to your slick entrance. He pushed his tip just inside of you and groaned at the sensation, his hands returning to your hips as he gripped you tightly, holding you there despite you wanting desperately to take more of him.
“James,” you whined. He shook his head.
“Call me Bucky,” he instructed headily.
“Bucky,” you whined further, trying to lower yourself further onto his cock.
“I know, I know, sweetheart,” he laughed. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Mhm,” you moaned as he took your lips in his again.
“You want more? Want more of my dick inside you?”
“Yes, yes, Bucky, please,” you mewled.
“Don’t worry, I’m gonna give it to you,” he said, kissing you along your neck, “but then you’re gonna focus on your work, okay?”
“Okay,” you agreed without really hearing him. You just needed more, you needed all of him.
He pulled you down further onto his cock torturously slowly as you gasped and mewled until he was seated fully inside of you.
“Fuck,” he grunted, eyes shutting in pleasure at the feeling of your tight walls squeezing him, at the warmth of your cunt around him.
You tried to move, but were stopped again by his hands holding you in place. He tutted as he looked at you, a smirk playing on his lips.
“What do you think you’re doing, sweetheart? We just agreed you’re gonna focus on your work now,”
“Huh? Right, right now?” you huffed.
“Right now,” he told you firmly.
You pouted as you leaned against his chest, your face pressing into his neck, even just that movement sparking pleasure through you.
“No pouting,” he laughed against your temple. You turned your face up to him, pout still in place before you leaned up further to kiss him again. Slow and heated, he got lost in your kiss. He almost didn’t stop you when you started rocking your hips against him. Almost.
You whined again as he held you still. His strength was impressive, you had to admit.
“Stop. Moving,” he growled, sending a new wave of arousal through you. “You’re gonna sit right here on my cock while we go over your essay and if you do a good job listening to me and stay focused, I’ll give you what you really want after. Understand?”
“Yes, professor,” you said quietly.
“Good,” he smiled, caressing your cheek as he looked down at you.
It was thirty five minutes of pure torture. He read a loud your entire essay and had you make corrections as he went, the entire time you could feel his thick cock throbbing inside your dripping cunt, just begging for any kind of movement. Near the end of your essay corrections, his hand dropped from your hip until he found your clit, slowly beginning to rub it in tight circles. You mewled pathetically and your walls tightened around his dick still deep inside of you while his lips attacked your neck with gentle kisses and love bites.
“You did so well, sweetheart,” he praised. “You took this from a C to an A with just thirty minutes of actual focus. All you had to do was face your distractions head on, find the right motivation,” he smirked against your skin.
“So we’re done with the editing then, right?” you asked.
“Mhm,” he hummed against you.
“Great,” you breathed as he brought you closer with his every touch.
“Fuck, you’re squezzing me so tight,” he groaned.
“I’m gonna come,” you mewled, breathing heavier still as his left hand tightened on your hip and his fingers worked your bud faster, sending you head first into your orgasm, his name falling off your tongue as you cursed and panted through your high, collapsing onto his chest.
“Oh my god,” he whined with a small gasp, his eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, can I come inside you?” he asked. You nodded your answer as you were still trying to catch your breath. He grabbed your face and crashed his lips into yours, hot and needy, while you felt him tense suddenly as his cock pulsed inside you and he moaned deeply into your mouth as he let himself go, you could feel the warmth of his release against your walls.
The evidence of your orgasm was all over his lap, coating his dick as he pulled you off of him.
“Holy fuck,” he panted. You didn’t think it was possible, but you felt yourself heat up even more than you already had been. “Hand me a tissue,” he said pointing to the box he had on the corner of his desk.
He cleaned himself up quickly before he pulled his briefs and trousers back up. He had you again on the edge of his desk as he bent down to clean you up, too, admiring the way his cum was leaking out of you before he grabbed your leggings from the floor, handing them to you. He pocketed your thong before he stood back up to his full height, towering over you.
“That was nice,” he laughed softly as he leaned down closer to you, his right hand framing your face, tilting it up to meet his eye, his thumb gently stroking the soft skin of your cheek before he leaned in to place a chaste kiss on your lips.
You smiled in response. “Yeah, it was,” you agreed.
“I hope you don’t find this inappropriate, but I’ve wanted you since the day we met.”
“The feeling is more than mutual,” you assured him. “But uhm. Is this..,” you gestured between the two of you, “allowed?” you questioned as you hopped off his desk to pull your leggings on.
“Well, it’s certainly not encouraged, but there’s nothing in my contract that explicitly prohibits it. I made sure a few months ago,” he said, eyeing you with a shy smile as if he hadn’t just come inside you after making you cockwarm him for nearly 45 minutes. It made you laugh. “I would prefer to keep this between us for as long as we can, though,” he hedged.
“Yeah, I completely agree. Don’t need these kids gossiping about me, too.”
“They do love to talk, don’t they?” he grimaced, causing you to smile at him.
“I’m sure we can keep this under wraps,” you said as you pulled your boots back on. “And I’d like to sign up for next week's one on one sessions, too, if you're available.”
“I’ll be sure to block it out for you,” he grinned.
“Might as well make it a standing weekly appointment,” you suggested as you walked back over to him from where he was perched on his desk.
“Sounds like a good idea,” he responded as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer while you stared up at him, your arms wrapping around him in return. “Are you free for dinner tomorrow night?”
“Dinner?” you questioned, pulling back slightly. “That doesn’t sound very underwraps,” you teased.
“A private dinner. At a private residence. My residence,” he clarified with a smirk.
“I’m free,” you nodded as you backed away and went to the other side of the desk as he turned around to watch you.
“Great, I’ll message you the address.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for it,” you said as you grabbed your bag and slipped your laptop back inside of it. “I should get going, but, thank you. For everything,” you simpered. “I really appreciate your help.”
“Anytime, sweetheart. My door’s always open. I’ll see you tomorrow,”
“Tomorrow it is,” you nodded in agreement as you walked to the door. But before you could open it, Bucky was behind you, turning you around to face him. His lips met yours in a soft, unrushed kiss before he pulled away slowly, opening the door for you.
“Have a good night,” you breathed.
“You, too,” he smiled.
Three weeks later you had a routine set in place. Nothing changed much in class, except you found yourself paying more close attention to the material now that you weren’t so hopelessly longing for your professor. Wednesday’s were your one on one sessions in Bucky’s office and Friday nights had been spent at his place. This last week, you’d even stayed the three day weekend with him. You knew you weren’t crazy when you had thought there was something real between the two of you when you had first met, but you didn’t expect to have clicked so well the way you had. Your chemistry was unbelievable and you got on so well together. Plus the sex was incredible.
Fucking in his office was so cliche, but that didn’t make it any less hot. In fact, it was really the only place you called him “Professor” these days. The title just made things that much sexier. It was Wednesday afternoon and you’d just gotten out of your last class for the day. You were going to head to Bucky’s office in a few hours, planning to go to your apartment to freshen up before picking up some food for you both on your way back.
You’d just finished changing into more…accessible clothes when your phone rang. It was a text from Bucky letting you know that the heat in his office wasn’t working again, so you’d have to meet in the library instead as they’d be working on the unit in his room. You frowned slightly, accepting that you’d changed for nothing, but at least the skirt was still comfortable. You texted back asking if you should still bring food and he promised he’d take you somewhere after instead. Apparently only two of his students in his 3:20 class showed up, so he dismissed them for the day. He was already on his way to the library, so you grabbed your things and headed back to campus.
You walked around the library looking for him with no luck before you decided to walk up to the second level, which was technically closed off for some construction work, in order to get a better view. You spotted him easily in the far back section of the lower level as you stood at the railing of the second floor. He was sipping on a cup of coffee and you smiled as you spied a cup of tea waiting for you next to his satchel on the table while he read over some work.
You walked back down to the first floor and made your way to him.
“Professor,” you greeted as you knocked on the bookcase blocking the table he was at from an easy view. He greeted you in return as he looked up from his work, a smile on his face. His eyes caught on the low v-neck of the top you were wearing, your cleavage on perfect display. His tongue jutted out along his lower lip as he admired the view. You cleared your throat as you looked at him with a raised brow.
He looked back up to your eyes, smiling charmingly as if he hadn’t just been caught leering at you so openly.
“I’m here to study, not be perved on,” you accused.
“You know you need to clear your mind to get your focus, first. And you know what helps clear your mind best,” he alluded.
“You know we’re in public, right?” you asked, voice hushed as you walked closer to the table.
“It’s a Wednesday, no one’s gonna come back here,” he said smoothly. “We’re hidden from sight.”
“Not true,” you denied. “I saw you from the second level,” you informed him.
“Was anyone up there?” he asked.
“No..”
“Didn’t think so,” he said smugly.
“There’s not right now. Anyone could come in at any time. It’s the middle of the day.”
“You’re right,” he aquesqued, hands up. “All work, no play today. I got you a tea,” he offered.
“Thank you,” you smiled as you took the seat across from him.
“Wow, why are you sitting so far?”
“Where do you want me to sit?” you laughed.
“Preferably, my lap,” he started, earning a humored scoff from you. “But right here would be good, too,” he said, gesturing to the seat next to him.
You got up and moved spots, getting comfortable before you pulled up your essay on your laptop.
“Still going through midterms?” you asked as you looked over to him making marks on the paper he was reading.
“Yeah,” he replied.
“Have you gotten to mine yet?”
“Not yet,” he said absently.
You nodded as you took a sip of your tea. You looked back to your essay and found yourself trailing off. It was pretty much finished, just needed to be read through again for any edits you needed to make. It wasn’t enough to keep your attention. Too easy. You could do it later no problem.
Instead you took out your text for Andy’s class and started reading next week’s assignment. You didn’t have much else to do. Funnily enough, you’d been getting most of your work done earlier than normal so you’d have less to actually do on Wednesdays, instead spending your “study” time focusing on other things…
You weren’t paying attention to anything, lost in perverted thoughts of last week when Bucky had fucked you agaisnt the wall in his office, while twirling your pen as you stared down blankly at the words on the page, not reading them at all. Pulling you from your perversions, suddenly you felt Bucky’s hand smooth its way under your skirt and up your thigh. His hand was so warm and strong as he touched you, sending chills through you as he scooted his chair closer to yours. You didn’t stop him and absentmindedly spread your thighs for him as he inched his way closer and closer to your inner thighs before his fingers made their way between them, gently rubbing at your warm, barely clothed pussy.
You came back to earth as you remembered where you were and reached your hand under the table to hold his, stopping his movements.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing, professor?” you breathed.
“Helping,” he responded. “What did I say about distractions, sweetheart?”
“Who says I’m distracted,” you whispered as you heard chatter coming from the other side of the bookcase before it passed as some students made their way to the front desk from the back office you weren’t too far off from.
“You have that far off look in your eyes,” he spoke quietly, “and I saw you squeezing your thighs together not ten seconds ago.” You exhaled a breath so softly you barely even heard yourself.
“Maybe we can end this session early and call it a day?” you asked, wanting to get out of the library and meet him back at your place, or hell, meet him at his car and let him take you apart in the faculty parking lot.
“No, I don’t think so. We both have some work left to do.”
“Bucky,” you whispered.
“No calling me Bucky outside my office while we’re on campus,” he reminded you. “You know better.”
You bit your lip before whispering sorry.
“You just need to face your distractions so you can get past them,” he said. “Let me help.”
You let go of his hand beneath the table and spread your thighs a little wider.
You almost stopped breathing completely when he slipped his fingers past your panties and gently pushed inside of you as one of the librarians passed by the aisle over. She peered behind the bookcase that was shielding you from the side to see who was at the tables and greeted both of you quietly before she returned to the aisle and reshelved some books. Bucky’s fingers didn’t stop for even a second as he returned her greeting and went back to grading.
The second you knew she was gone you panted a breath. “James,” you chastised as you sat in your seat still, making no attempt to actually stop him.
“More?” he questioned without looking up from his work, only speeding up his fingering, curling them inside of you. You bit down harshly on your lip to stop yourself from moaning out loud, your thighs tensing with the impending wave of pleasure you were teetering on before he slipped his fingers out of you, a school boy smirk playing on his lips.
You exhlaed heavily and shakily before looking over to him, shocked. He finally looked back at you, still smirking.
“I wanna try something. If you want me to stop, tell me,” he said as he removed his hand from your thigh and stood up abruptly. You could see the outline of his erection through his trousers and found yourself getting more aroused. You didn’t know what he wanted to do, but assumed it'd be something at least a little discret. Along the lines of putting you in his lap again, or even just having you get him off. So when he pulled you up and spun you around, pushing you down against the table, you were surprised to say the least. You heard him unzip his pants as he pulled himself free and then pulled your panties down your thighs. You couldn’t even think as he prodded you with his cock, and gasped loudly when he finally pushed into you. His hand was on your mouth in an instant as he leaned over your back, his mouth next to your ear as he spoke. “Gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” he panted. “You don’t want anyone to see us back here, do you?”
Your gurgled moan was his response as he began fucking into you, keeping your chest firmly againt the sturdy table, one hand on your mouth and one holding your wrists behind your back. You were panting as quietly as you could as he slid in and out of you, getting deeper with each thrust. He took his hand away from your mouth after a moment and gripped your hip to keep you a little more steady, trying to keep your hips from slamming so hard into the wood. The salacious sounds of his pelvis slapping against your ass with his thrusts were only making you more slick as he moved his hand from your wrists to keep your skirt pushed up as he fucked you from behind.
It was taking all of your willpower to keep quiet, your mouth open in silent moans as you tried to keep yourself breathing. His thrusts were getting more powerful the longer he went. Each time you heard people passing by, your cunt gripped his cock even tighter at the thrill of the proximity, and Bucky didn’t miss it.
“Who knew you were so fucking kinky,” he panted into your ear. “You like getting fucked in public, huh? Like the idea of anyone walking by and seeing you get fucked out of your mind? Seeing you getting claimed by me,” he husked.
You mewled as quietly as you could and nodded your head in affirmation. “I like it,” you whispered pathetically.
“I know you do,” he laughed before fucking into you deeper, making sure you felt every inch of his thick cock gliding against your velvety walls, squeezing him tightly.
“Professor, please,” you pleaded quietly.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he grunted as he gripped your hip harder still, pulling your ass flush against him before he began rutting into you desperately. He leaned his weight onto you as he kept you pushed down, flush against the table. His hand left your skirt and found your clit, adding to the growing pressure building in your abdomen as he rubbed you, fucking you and stimulating all the most sensitive spots along your walls. Before you knew you were, you came completely undone, the familiar white hot pleasure induced euphoria spreading through you as you came around him, squeezing him like you never wanted him to leave you empty again. And truth be told, you didn’t. You’d never felt so fulfilled or satisfied in your life.
He could barely move as you came around him, but after a few more thrusts, he shot his load inside of you, cursing under his breath as he came, panting. After a moment, he pulled out gently and slid your panties back up for you, pushing your skirt down before he fixed himself. You were still reeling from the intensity of it all when you stood, a little wobbly, from the table.
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Cute planned ending:
“I can’t believe we just did that,” you breathed, turning around to face Bucky. “We really just did that,” you said, still in shock at yourself while Bucky grinned proudly before looking around a bit, just making sure you were still alone. He grabbed you by your waist and pulled you close, leaning down to kiss you deeply, letting you go for a second before kissing you harder again.
“We did. And now,” he said, ushering you back to your seat, urging you to sit down, “you're gonna finish editing your paper while I grade a few more of these midterms, no distractions.”
“Easy for you to say,” you muttered as you looked up at him still standing while you were seated once again. “I’m the one sitting here with come leaking out of me,” you complained.
“Is it that distracting for you, sweetheart?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Yes,” you responded.
“No problem. I can help with that, too,” he smirked as he got down on his knees, crawling under the table to kneel at your feet as your eyes went wide while you watched him. He pulled you to the edge of the chair before he slipped your panties off completely. “That essay better be ready to turn in by the time I get back up, do you understand?” he warned. You could feel his breath against your folds as he got closer.
“Yes, professor,” you mewled pathetically as you spread your thighs even wider for him.
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Alternative kind of darkish ending:
You felt eyes on you as you turned around, but it wasn’t Bucky. You looked up to the second floor and could have sworn you saw Andy passing by, worry flooding through you instantly. You weren’t sure, though. Maybe he was really just walking by and hadn’t seen anything. Maybe it was no one at all and you were just imagining things. You almost didn’t even want to say anything about it, just act like you hadn’t seen, or thought you saw, anyone at all.
Until Andy came knocking on the bookcase, from the opposite direction, startling you as you gasped and spun around, hands flying to make sure your skirt was smoothed down completely, unconscious backing toward where Bucky was. Andy looked between you both for a second before he spoke, a knowing, devilish smirk growing on his face as he looked at you in a way you’d never seen him look at anyone before. Lewdly, leering, lustful, even.
“What’s goin’ on down here?”
You looked back at Bucky, hoping to find some kind of reassurance or protection, but he was completely unphased at the presence of his friend.
“You enjoy the show?” he asked, unamused.
“I think I could put on better,” he shrugged, eyes still locked on you, even as Bucky pulled you into his side.
“What do you think, sweetheart? Wanna let him try?”
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2K notes · View notes
love-toxin · 1 year
Note
If you have any more thoughts on this bully!Eddie and bully!Steve dynamic you'd like to share...Cause this had me fucking feral. Older or younger, their partnership has to be deadly.
Constantly in silent competition with each other to see who makes reader cry the hardest, the manipulation tactics, bro. I just want them both to be really mean and possessive over me, you know?
heh. heheheheheh.....HEH!!! i made this a little sweeter cuz im weak
let them eat cake
(cws: older!bully!steddie, f!waitress!angelface, age gap (20s-late 30s/40s), innocence/corruption kink, a singular knife, they're possessive in their own way, crying, sexual harrassment (not them), shitty diner etiquette, steve has sugar daddy tendencies, a little angst with a fluffy ending.)
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The possessiveness is what really gets them. Steve and Eddie love seeing you cry, love making you wet while you work, love talking down to you when you can't talk back and you wouldn't anyways cause you're just so pretty and dumb and sweet, too shy and too nice to have an attitude and they can tell after a while that it's cause you like the attention. Or maybe you have a thing for degradation and you aren't even aware of it, who knows?
But there are times when your teary-eyed face isn't satisfying, when your trembling shoulders as you approach their table don't make Steve's leg bounce and Eddie's grin twitch up. When you hurriedly try to wipe your face dry before you come up to them, your voice crackly and soft as you whimper out a "wh-what can I get for you today?" with your pen poised over your notepad that won't stop shaking. Those are the times that they aren't the culprits for your misery, and they wanna know who the fuck has been pushing around their dumb little princess.
Yeah, your job at the diner is shitty, and the hag at the front counter likes to bark at you pretty often as the only other waitress--but that's not enough to make you this way. They survey the rest of the diner until their eyes land on another table a ways away, and see the group of happy-go-lucky college boys that are so loud and rowdy that their voices are already giving Steve a headache. And after you bring the older gentlemen their waters and sweet tea (that you make yourself and they always insist on having a taste of even though it's the same recipe every time) they watch you get more and more anxious as you pass those dickheads by, the group of them high off a game win or something because they wolf whistle in your direction every time you get close enough. It's rage-inducing for the two of them, watching those shitty fucking brats make comments and flirt with you and even mock groping you, causing you to flinch away and spill one of their drinks that they laugh about as they insist you clean it up. And the grins on their faces when they lean over to watch you bend down to pick up the cup, hoping to get a glimpse of your ass in the skirt you're wearing today--oh, they both just want to throttle them, but Steve especially so. He may be fucking crusty as he nears his forties, but he's a lot bigger and a lot stronger than those jerks half his age.
The two of them just sit there and marinate in their own fury for awhile, but just when Steve's moving to get up out of his seat because he cannot fucking take another second of this bullshit, and he's mumbling that he's gonna teach those dickheads some goddamn respect--you've got your hand on his arm and you're holding him, clutching at the sleeve of his sweater with panic in your eyes.
"P-Please, Mr. Harrington, don't get in trouble," You whimper, trying not to let the feeling of his thick, firm biceps under your palms distract you. "I can deal with it, I promise. I-I'll make them quiet down, so you don't get a headache."
Oh, you don't even realize. The unexpected sweetness of you remembering such an insignificant detail about him actually makes Steve's heart jump, feels like it's the first time in ages since it's done that. It's baffling to each of them that you're more concerned about them, though--and there's that crack of mercy that forms then, that's slowly gonna get wider and wider as the two of them realize they don't just wanna tease you, they want you.
When you walk away, for once, Steve just stares down at his glass as he sips from it. Wondering how much money you would take from him to quit this shitty job today. Meanwhile, Eddie's worked up a glare to cast at the college kids that they definitely notice this time, their obnoxious laughter turned to head shifting and whispering as they wonder why that freak is staring so hard. The more he does it, the more unnerved they get, so he doesn't look away even when they make eye contact to try and ward him off. It would be a contest, if Eddie didn't produce a little pocket knife from his jacket, and start flipping it around without breaking his stare and without slicing a single cut into his fingers. And that seems to be enough for them to get over themselves and turn away to snap their fingers at you for the check, before filing out of the diner as a group and keeping up that threatened hush over them until they get outside. Then they're boisterous again, laughing and making ill-intentioned jokes about that weirdo perv as they get into their cars, because Eddie knows they're fucking scared of him. They wouldn't be so loudly claiming they weren't if that was really the truth.
Finally, when peace falls over the diner again, they watch you clear the plates and then scurry over to collect the check, and grimace when your shoulders visibly fall, the measly few pennies left over for your tip barely weighing down your hand. Yet you still count them in your palm, picking out a few bits of pocket lint from the pile because it was obviously thrown in half-assedly. Fucking pricks. Only a seriously sadistic group of assholes wouldn't tip their goddamn waitress.
"Honey, come here." You perk up at Steve's voice--how cute--and hurry towards their table, slipping the chump change into your apron pocket on the way. You nearly trip trying to get there in short time, but you stand up straight and smooth out your skirt once you're there, perched nearly on the balls of your feet as you wait for their command. "Closer."
As if on autopilot, your body moves to shuffle towards Steve's side of the booth, and you lean over so your face is closer even though you look more than a little nervous. Worried he's gonna do something bad? Gonna take advantage of you when you're already beat down?
"This is for you." The thick thumbful of cash he had ready gets pushed into your hand--he was gonna stuff it down your top for a laugh, but for some reason it makes its way right into your palm. He closes your hands over it so you won't see how much it is, but you can feel how much paper is unfurling even as it's tucked tightly inside your fist. Your little doe eyes widen, and you shake your head, your first reaction to try and give it back. Whether you don't think you deserve it, or you were raised to be polite and humble, either way it's too fucking sweet for him to resist, and he forces your hand to squeeze it tighter. "Don't get an ego. But, I'm....I'm proud of you."
"Are....are you kidding, Mr. Harrington?"
Oh, for fuck's sakes. Eddie's expression shifts like lightning into shock and concern, seeing you tremble and tear up at those simple words, and hearing your disbelief so strong in your shaky voice that you think it's just a joke.
"Christ, I-"
"One sec!" You suddenly dart away, the cash still clutched in your hand as you skid around the other tables in your way and run into the kitchen, the two of them hearing one of the cooks in the back reprimand you for rushing around, you're gonna slip! Thankfully, they don't hear those telltale crashes of dishware breaking or cutlery clattering to the floor, but the two of them are left wondering and looking at each other until you patter right back out with two plates in hand. They don't even notice what it is because they're too wrapped up in how big your smile is, cheeks still wet cause you didn't have a second to dry them, until you set down both plates in front of each of them and produce two forks.
It's a thick slice of cake for both men, Steve'a a vanilla flavour with lots of fresh strawberries piled on and drizzled around it, while Eddie has a hefty chunk of double-chocolate cake with enough frosting to give him diabetes. Both have a few sprinkles scattered messily around the smudged frosting and whipped cream, and the cake is moist if a little crumbly, but it so screams you that they're left looking back at you in awe.
"Dessert's on the house. I, um...I made it. Both of them. Gladys let me do the new desserts."
You fidget with your fingers anxiously as they each take their first bites, overwhelmed with fruit and sugar and cholesterol. It's so fucking great. Steve at least has some decorum as he swipes up the whipped topping and hums at realizing it's homemade, but you almost seem more eager to hear Eddie's almost piggish grunting as he stuffs his mouth full of cake, his lower lip smeared with chocolate that he's quick to wipe off with his thumb and suck clean. Only once they're eating do you think to rub your face dry, swiftly using the back of your hands to smooth out the streaks before your smile grows brighter.
"...Good?"
"Incredible," Eddie moans, and you try to hide your giggling. Steve wishes you wouldn't, he hasn't realized he's been staring until you turn to look at him, and he shoves another bite past his lips to cover it up. "You need to come cook at my place. Forget Harrington, he's got girls lining up to feed him."
"Shut up." He finally meets your eyes, the scowl nowhere near reaching his eyes as they run over your sweet, smiling face. "He's an idiot. Come use my kitchen anytime you want." It's not really until those sober thoughts hit your ears that Steve really realizes that he said them so bluntly, and in a bid to brush it off, he demands you bring them both a coffee to go with their cake.
"Mhm!" You hum, his stern tone not even making you flinch as you practically skip off to the kitchen to make them their drinks, your skirt flouncing up just enough that they can get a peek underneath if they dip their heads. They're a little too involved in their desserts to catch it, though, and Steve has a faraway look in his eyes as he picks a lone sprinkle off and eats it that has Eddie smirking.
"....Steeeevie-"
"I said shut up."
He mutters back, his voice soft and barely there like the words are just flimsy things to form it. The smile that turns up his lips as he stares at his plate can't be mistaken, though, the tines of his fork dragging little lines in the icing as he thinks about how happy you looked just now.
922 notes · View notes
readychilledwine · 4 months
Text
The First Noel
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Summary - Rhysand knew he could never live up to the standards the Winter Court had for Solstice. But it's the thought that counts, right?
Warnings - Pure. Fluff.
You can take a peek at Broken here
Happy almost Christmas, my loves ❤️
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The first problem with courting someone from the Winter Court, Rhysand slowly realized as he walked around the market currently being decorated and set up for Solstice, was he would never live up to the standards she must have had for their most sacred day. The second problem? If this was what the High Lord of Winter set up for his fae, higher or lesser, Rhysand could hardly begin to imagine what he did for his beloved children, Kallias and Aelia.
The latter of whom was holding his hand, taking him to her favorite hot chocolate and cider vendor. Azriel and Cassian were not far behind them, both already holding a bag of chocolates and treats they excitedly took in the sights before them. Rhys took a heavy breath as they finally reached the vendor, eyes pleading to his brothers for help. Aelia was to spend Solstice with them in Night, and all Rhysand could think about was how disappointed she was about to be.
Aelia packed her bags with a smile etched into her face. Leaving Winter for SOlstice was a huge milestone in the long courtship she and Rhysand had been going through. The two normally spent Holidays and events in their own courts and with their own families. Aside from Starfall, they had bridged this gap, and she was anxious to see how they decorated, what foods and treats were made, what traditions they held.
She smiled as Azriel appeared behind her, silently taking her bags. “Before we go back to the Night Court, could we possibly get more of that peppermint hot chocolate?” The two of them smiled at each other, eyes sparkling in mischief. Rhysand made a mistake allowing Azriel to be the one to pick her up.
Or was it a calculated choice?
“Is she coming to look at ornaments or be with us, Rhys?” Mor rolled her eyes for the fourth time as Rhysand adjusted every single ornament on their tree again. “If she’s coming to see decorations, maybe you need to step up your game.”
Cassian chuckled in the corner of the room, his eyes trained on perfectly wrapping the gift he had gotten for Azriel while the Shadowsinger was away. “Did you label any of her gifts as being from that bearded guy who breaks into houses?”
Mor immediately sat up, “What?”
Amren sighed as she set her glass down. “There’s several legends in the Winter Court regarding two twin brothers. Both ancient high fae. One was blessed by the Mother, his joy and happiness spread to faelings every solstice eve during the dead of night to leave them with gifts for good behavior. The other brother was cursed by the Dark Mother and Death Gods to punish naughty children. It is unknown what he does to them, but the belief is he rips them from their homes never to be seen again.”
Mor paled slightly, taking a long sip of her wine. “I see.”
“It’s no different,” Rhys paused, brushing a fleck of glitter from his cotton shirt, “Then the Court of Nightmares using your story to force young females into fear and submission.” He stepped away from the tree, bending down slightly to angle one present just right. “And no, Cassian, I did not want to bring up Aelia’s trauma and trust issues with her father by labeling her gifts as being from Santa.”
“Just figured you might with how often you call her a good girl,” Cassian shrugged, giving up on wrapping the gift perfectly and settling for the jumbled mess of ribbons and paper. “I’m paying someone to wrap my shit from now on.”
Mor nodded in agreement, handing Cassian the bottle of wine they had been drinking from. “When will her and Az get here?”
As if on cue, loud laughter could be heard from the balcony. Shadows moved more presents, all immaculately wrapped with bows and ribbons under the tree as Aelia and Azriel entered the room. Mor was instantly up, running to hug her and rushing to speak about the latest Kal and Viv gossip as Aelia took in the room.
Tinsel hung from garland and wreaths, faelights twinkled brightly in a variety of colors, and a tree sat in the corner near a bare fireplace, making her smile wider, knowing she had the stockings to decorate it hidden in one of her bags. “It’s so pretty,” she didn’t see as Rhysand’s shoulders fell in relief, relaxation setting in immediately. “Do you all always do this much?”
None of them answered, looking away immediately as she moved to study the hand blown glass ornaments. They were clearly new, still intact and colors setting in. “Rhys, you didn’t have to do this for me.”
The inner circle all laughed slightly. They had spent the past week cleaning and decorating this specific room and little spot in the House of Wind on Rhysand’s true high lord’s orders. “I wanted it all to be perfect for your first solstice here. Living up to Winter’s standards for this was.. challenging?”
Aelia shook her head, hugging Rhysand tightly and resting her head on his chest. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
When the house had gone silent, Aelia snuck out of her bed, bag of stockings in tow and moved to the cheerful festive room again. She began to place them along the fireplace, smiling as she did.
Azriel's was full of candies and new leather gloves.
Cassian also had a variety of candy and weapon oil Kal had carefully wrapped and boxed the container of.
Amren, the hardest of the bunch, required a delicate hand. She had paid a decent sum of money to have blood chocolates made, explaining to the crafter who they were for. He had promised his best, and if the smell was anything to go off, he delivered. She had also wrapped a few raw gemstones native to Winter in the stocking, knowing the ancient female sat on a stash of exquisite and expensive gems and jewels like a fire drake.
For Mor, she had purchased a bottle of her favorite pear wine, placing it above the stocking. In the stocking itself laid skin care and a new shade of red lipstick she had told Viv she wanted to try.
And for Rhys, her lovely, kind, and handsome partner, she had purchased a stargazing and mapping kit as well as had someone who shares his love and interest of the galaxy draw out the night sky on the date of their first kiss. A few chocolates sat on top of the rolled parchment, hiding its contents.
Aelia stepped away, smiling before jumping as arms wrapped around her waist. “What are you doing, darling?” Rhysand's voice was heavy with sleep, his face burying into her shoulder. “Come lay with me.”
Aelia allowed him to sleepily Pull her away from the room, sighing as he gently kissed her neck and pulled his blankets over her body once they were in his bed. He had worked so hard making his visit perfect for her, knowing it would be hard to be away from Winter and her family. She snuggled into him, anxiously waiting for morning, and fell asleep within an instant.
Aelia woke up to shouting and laughter, feeling the empty side of the bed as a loud “Fuck you!” rang through the air. She moved to the balcony, taking a blanket with her and just watched in silence. Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel were hidden behind forts, snowballs being launched at the slightest sense of movement.
She felt her lips twitch as she leaned on the railing, then laughed as Rhys was hit in the face due to being distracted. “You should pay better attention, brother!” Azriel ducked back down as Cassian tried to hit him. “She's pretty, but is she worth accepting your 100th defeat for?!”
Rhys looked up again, smiling at the sight of Aelia. “Yes. She is.” He held up his hands, walking inside of the house as Cassian and Azriel shouted in victory then began hunting each other's movements.
Cold hands found her waist again, “Happy Solstice, darling.”
“Happy Solstice, Rhys.”
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theostrophywife · 2 years
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Can I request an Az X Reader? Some random court attacks the Night Court and the IC is just fighting against the intruders, and after the fight Az says the whole "who did this to you?" 🥹 🛐
who did this to you?
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author's note: i love this concept! you know i had to make it enemies to lovers with a little sprinkle of scarlet witch aesthetic for good measure.
“How much longer is this going to take?” Azriel asked.
“Do you have something better to do?” you scoffed. 
You frowned as you hovered beside the shadowsinger and sent a pulse of your power through the protective barrier surrounding Velaris. The thread of scarlet magic crackled around the invisible force field, prodding and testing for weak spots. Earlier that night, you’d woken up from a dream that someone was attempting to invade the city you called home. Anyone else would have just written it off as a nightmare if it weren’t for the fact that your dreams often came true. 
You informed the High Lord right away and he rallied the rest of the inner circle back at the River House. Rhys and Cassian were currently patrolling the eastern side of the city while Feyre and Mor flanked the western side. Amren, Nesta, and the Valkyries were stationed at each quarter of the palaces, leaving only Azriel to accompany you to the edge of the Sidra. 
Needless to say, the shadowsinger wasn’t exactly thrilled to be woken up in the middle of the night and even less so when Rhys tasked him with accompanying you to the barrier. To be fair, you weren’t all that enthralled with the idea either. You’d much rather have Cassian or Feyre or literally anyone else in the inner circle join you, but your magic combined with Azriel’s shadows would be able to cover more of the barrier than any other pair. The shadowsinger knew this fact perfectly well, but he still acted like it was a huge inconvenience to be out here with you. 
Since Rhysand welcomed you into the fold, Azriel has always had a problem with you. In the beginning, you tried your best to befriend him, but you couldn't seem to break through his icy exterior no matter how hard you tried. Eventually, you just told yourself to ignore the loaded stares and heavy sighs your presence seemed to coax out of the Illyrian warrior. Not everyone was going to like you and you'd accepted Azriel's aversion towards you, but it was still highly irritating given the fact that you hadn’t done anything to earn such a reaction.
“Do you even know what we’re supposed to be looking for?” Azriel states condescendingly while his shadows swarmed the invisible wall. 
You spun mid-air, hands hovering by your hips to keep you airborne. On any other day, you would have let his attitude roll right off your shoulders, but enough was enough. You were equally as displeased with the current arrangement and highly stressed from the possible threat, but you weren't taking it out on Azriel.
“What is your problem with me?”
Azriel’s wings flared behind him as he turned to face you. “I never said I had a problem with you.” 
“You don’t have to say it when it’s written all over your face.” Something unreadable flashed through his hazel eyes. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. You sighed. “Forget it. This isn’t the time to discuss this anyways. Just do me a favor and let me know if your shadows find anything. A gap, a hole, any indication that the barrier has been compromised.”
The shadowsinger nodded as you floated further down the barrier. Scarlet wisps of your power returned to your fingertips, unable to find anything during the initial search. The feeling of dread that washed over you in the midst of your dream was so raw and visceral that you kept on prodding despite the fact that nothing seemed to be amiss. To your right, Azriel pushed at the shimmering barrier with brute force. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted it. A metallic pin no bigger than a needle protruding from a nearly nonexistent gap in the wall. As the shadowsinger moved closer to it, you screamed. 
"Azriel!"
Hurtling through the sky, you shot straight into Azriel and sent the both of you careening through the clear skies. A second later, a deafening explosion lit up the horizon while dark wings shielded you from the blast. To your surprise, the Illyrian warrior grasped you in his arms protectively and held on tightly while shards of metal rained down from the sky. Your gazes met for a brief second before your ears started ringing. 
His mouth was moving, but you couldn't make out what he was saying. You shook your head, gesturing to your ears to indicate that you couldn't hear.
Azriel swiped his thumb against your ear and blanched when his fingertips came back covered in blood. The world seemed to tip on its own axis as you wiped away the blood running down your cheek. A tinny sound echoed within you before Rhysand’s voice crackled through your consciousness. 
“What the hell was that?” asked the High Lord. 
You blinked and saw Rhys hovering over you with Cassian at his side. The Sidra glittered to your right as Azriel set you down. You hadn’t even realized that he’d flown you to safer ground. The shock of the explosion was still rippling through your senses. 
“Are either of you hurt?” Cassian prompted with concern. 
“No, she caught it just in time. Practically tackled me out of harm’s way. I’m fine, but her ear is bleeding pretty badly. Must have ruptured it from the blast,” Azriel murmured as he wiped at your ear with a small cloth. 
You swatted his hand away. “I’m fine. It’ll heal. I need to close the gap before anyone gets through.” 
Just then, a whizzing sound scraped through the air. You looked up and found a horde of harpies charging at the barrier. Each hybrid that flew by was more terrifying than the last. The top half of each creature was partially human save for the feathered wings protruding from their backs, but the lower half was purely vulture. They clawed at the entrance with their sharp talons and every slice rippled through the protective magic surrounding Velaris. 
“Like hell you’re going up there,” Azriel said. 
You pulled yourself to standing and glared at him. “It’s my job to make sure the gate is secure. Besides, you’re going to need my help against the harpies. I'm the only one who has experience fighting their kind. They're nasty creatures, but they can be killed."
The shadowsinger stubbornly turned towards Rhysand who gave his brother a pointed look. “She’s right, Az. We need her skills on the battlefield.” 
Azriel didn’t look pleased, but merely nodded. He barely gave you a second glance before saying, “You’re with me then. We’ll take the eastern side.” 
He shot into the sky and you soon followed after. A blanket of your magic projected over the both of you as you and Azriel broke through the barrier. The harpies hissed as you shot through the air, sending blasts of your power to knock them back.
Azriel stalked for their first line of defense with lethal speed while you summoned a sword in your hand. As you glided through the sky, you cut down harpy after harpy with acute precision. One of them darted towards you at breakneck speed, but you pivoted and buried your blade into its back. 
Blood as dark as night splattered all over your dark hooded cloak, but you paid no mind to it as you continued to fight. The harpies may have brute force on their side, but you were quick and lithe, cutting through the monstrous creatures like ribbons of flesh. You led the harpies to an open field just outside the protective barrier, luring them into an environment that was more advantageous for your style of combat. 
Azriel landed right beside you and a knowing look passed between you, warrior to warrior. The shadowsinger flipped Truth-teller in his hand while you conjured two short swords in your hands. Back to back, you continued to battle against the would-be invaders. 
As another harpy fell to your feet, a High Fae male stepped out of the shadows. The cruel smile and sharp features sent a shiver down your spine. Like a demon out of hell, the male's black eyes haunted you. Before you stood Anthrin - the only living kin of the King of Hybern.
Anthrin's cold, empty gaze survey you with disgust. “The Darkstar,” he says with a sneer. “I have heard of your immense power and yet you waste it by protecting the weak. Is this what Prythian has reduced you to, witch?”
“Anthrin,” you say with venom laced in your voice. “What do you want?” 
Even across the seas, everyone knew of the cruel, sadistic male. The ruthless prince who once enslaved and hunted humans for sport. It was fair to say that Dagdan and Brannagh took after their horrid father. 
Anthrin smiled, but the action didn’t meet his eyes. His stare was hollow and vacant, void of any emotion. “Justice. Vengeance. Retribution,” his expressionless gaze sent a shiver down your spine. “I want Rhysand’s whore to pay for butchering my children.” 
Your grip tightened around the hilt of your weapons. “My High Lady did the entire realm a favor by ending your abominable son and daughter. They got what they deserved.” 
The look Anthrin gave you was one of pure malice. “So will you and your beloved city, witch.”
The male charged at you with a broadsword in hand. You blocked the blow with an upward swing of your blade and slid to your knees across the hard ground. Dirt scraped against your leathers as Anthrin spun to dart towards you again, but you were too fast. 
The heavy onyx cloak tied around your neck fell to the jagged terrain as you went on the offensive. You charged at him with careful, calculated strikes that push him further and further away from the barrier. He met your blows with equal force. Anthrin’s sword required a two-handed grip, but the male was strong and relentless. 
The dance between you was one of pure strategy. Anthrin was both bigger and stronger, but the more energy he expended, the slower his movements were. You made sure to use that to your advantage. The short swords you wielded came down on him blow after blow and the male struggled to shield himself from your attacks. 
You withheld one of them and sent a blast of your power to his side and Anthrin staggered as it hit his right leg. 
“You little bitch,” he spat, clutching at the singed fabric of his trousers. 
Anthrin lurched toward you, his sword singing against yours as magic met steel. A jolt went through your arm as the force of the blow pushed you back. The vile male took the opportunity to yank you by the wrist, pulling you down to the ground and driving his knee against your ribs. 
With the air knocked out of you, a trickle of blood splattered in the ground while you spit out the metallic taste coating your tongue. You clutched your side, growling in anger as your eyes glowed with scarlet magic. Anthrin had the good sense to appear terrified, retreating back to where the rest of the harpies were gathered. 
Azriel looked up as you hovered above them, his dagger driving into the side of one of your enemies without even looking in its direction. He broke off into a sprint before launching himself into the skies. 
“Need a lift?” He asked, gesturing down to where Anthrin was reconvening with his creatures. 
You nodded and Azriel grabbed both of your hands, dangling you in mid-air while he flew at breakneck speed. He swung you underneath him and sent you careening through the horizon as you rained hellfire down on Anthrin and his troops. 
You flew alongside Azriel as the harpies began to attack from above. The leader of the pack dove straight for your direction and you braced yourself to block the sharp talons from scraping through you, but a dark shadow struck the harpy before it could reach you. 
“Don’t fucking touch her.” Azriel growled as he rammed into the creature. 
You staggered back in surprise, but quickly regained your bearings to focus on the incoming group. Magic surged through your hands as you summoned a crimson wave of your killing power over the creatures. 
One by one, they dropped like flies until the High Fae male was the only one remaining. Azriel tossed you to the ground and you quickly rolled through the air, swinging your blade down before Anthrin could even blink. The scarlet sword pierced right through him and he fell with a loud thud at your feet. 
At the fall of their master, the harpies dispersed and began fleeing in fear. Azriel took off to the skies and eliminated the last of the stragglers while you flew up to the barrier and repaired the hole that the invaders left. 
You ran a hand through the force field and scarlet magic rippled through you in waves as your power knit together the hole that was blown through the wall. In the distance, you could see Rhys and Cas flying towards you. Fuzzy white noise rang in your ears while you kept your eyes on the horizon. 
Just as the barrier locked in place, you felt the sky shift beneath your feet as though the world was spinning off its axis. With your power drained, you wobbled backwards and careened through the clouds. As your eyes fluttered closed, you could hear a familiar voice screaming your name over and over again. 
The voice didn’t belong to the High Lord or the General. Instead, it was the Azriel’s pleads cutting through the air. The raw desperation was unlike anything you’ve ever heard out of the shadowsinger. 
Before you could plummet into the Sidra, strong arms wrapped around your back and legs, carrying you to safety. 
“It’s alright,” Azriel murmured softly. “I’ve got you.”
The last thing you remembered before blacking out was the sunrise painting his eyes golden while he looked down at you. 
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You weren’t sure how much time had passed since the battle at the Sidra, but it was dark when you finally woke up. The large glass windows at the House of Wind reflected the starry skies outside as you craned your neck to see. A dull ache throbbed at the back of your head, which always occurred when you’d expended too much of your power in a short amount of time. 
You blinked as a shadow curled through your wrist, its cool touch snaking through your limbs with careful assessment. It seemed satisfied with whatever it found as it traveled across the room. Perched on a velvet reading chair, Azriel rubbed his eyes and perked up as his shadow returned to him. He listened for its report before turning his gaze back to you. 
“You’re awake.��� 
You grimaced, fully feeling the aftermath of the battle in your battered body. “How long have I been out?” 
“Two days.” 
From the looks of it, Azriel had been sleeping in that chair for just as long. His clothes were rumpled and his hair was sticking up in a dozen different directions as though he’d been tossing and turning in the tiny chair.
You slowly sat upright, wincing as the action placed weight on your aching ribs. Azriel was beside you in a flash, carefully guiding you to lean back on the pillows for support. The shadowsinger scanned your face and perched himself on the mattress. 
“You scared the hell out of me,” he says softly. “You shouldn’t have used up all of your power like that.” 
You frowned, crossing your arms. “I was only doing my job.” 
Azriel leveled a stubborn gaze at you. “Not at the expense of your own well-being. Madja said that if you expended any more magic, you would’ve run yourself dry.” 
“I’m fine,” you respond with resolution. 
To ensure the shadowsinger, you leaned forward to sit up on your own, but your own stubbornness backfired as pain shot up through your side. 
Azriel gripped your arm gently. “What’s wrong?” 
Instinctively, your hand ran along your ribs and you winced at even the slightest touch. The shadowsinger wrapped his fingers around your wrist and set it on his lap. 
“May I? I need to see if Madja needs to look at you again.” 
You nod silently. With careful consideration, Azriel lifted up the hem of your shirt. The Illyrian warrior sucked in a sharp intake of breath as he beheld the large purple bruise covering the majority of your side. With heat blazing in those hazel eyes of his, the rage within him was barely contained as he gritted his teeth. 
“Who did this to you?” His voice was calm and deathly silent, but the lethal promise of his wrath carried in every word. 
The reaction was entirely perplexing. Azriel had never shown care towards you, but then you remembered the flash of anger on his face while he growled at the harpy for trying to attack you. You weren't sure what to make of it. Surely, there was a perfect explanation for his odd behavior. Perhaps he was just angry that you’d let an enemy get close enough to hurt you. 
“It doesn’t matter,” you say, shying away from his touch. 
Azriel refused to break eye contact. “It does matter,” he says gruffly. “It matters to me.” 
You frowned. “Go on then, tell me how careless I was to allow Anthrin to inflict such damage. I’m sure you’re dying to tell me how insufficient my skills are.” 
Azriel’s gaze softened. “Is that what you think I’m angry about?” 
“What else would it be?” 
The shadowsinger furrowed his brows. “That piece of shit is the last thing I care about. I’d rip him to shreds if you hadn’t already done it yourself,” he took a deep breath to calm himself. “I’m angry because I wasn’t able to protect you. I’m angry because you give and you give without any consideration to how it may affect you.” 
“Why do you care?” 
Azriel chuckled, his humorless laugh bouncing off the walls. “Haven’t you figured it out yet, sweetheart?”
He moved closer and you felt yourself drawn to him, mesmerized by the ardorous look on his face. Azriel rarely showed any emotion, so to see him overcome with such fervent passion was a brand new experience.
“Are you that entirely blind to how I feel about you?” 
You swallowed thickly. “I - I don’t understand. You can’t even stand to be around me. I thought you hated me.” 
Azriel grazed your cheek with his fingertips. “I have never hated you. I only hated myself for not having the courage to tell you how I felt.” 
Your voice is barely a whisper as you gaze into his eyes. “How do you feel, Azriel?” 
The shadowsinger grabs your hand and places it over his chest. You could feel his heart beating erratically underneath your palm. “I feel like I’ve lived nearly five centuries just waiting for you. It’s almost as though I’ve been holding my breath until the moment you came into my life and showed me what it’s like to have the wind knocked out of my lungs.”
Your chest tightened at his words. You were all too familiar with that feeling because you felt it every time he looked at you. At first, you thought it was just pure loathing, but you knew that if you truly hated Azriel, you wouldn't be this affected by his presence or care whether or not he liked you. The feelings you had for the shadowsinger were complicated, but they were definitely strong. The verdict was still out on whether they were good or bad. 
They always said that there was a fine line between love and hate. As you met Azriel's gaze, you couldn't differentiate which side you were teetering towards.
“When you fell, every opportunity I had to tell you the truth flashed before my eyes. In all honesty, it was easier to let you believe that I despised you than open myself up to the possibility of rejection. But then, you were unconscious for nearly two days and the thought of losing you killed me. I don’t care about rejection anymore. You can say that you’d never reciprocate my feelings towards you and I’d respect that, but I am done holding it in.” 
He stood, putting space between you. “I am sorry for how I’ve treated you. For pushing you away when you made every effort to be my friend.” Regret flashed through his features and your chest tightened. “I have always known that I wanted to be more than that to you. Maybe I didn’t go about it in the best way, but there it is.” 
For the first time since you met him, Azriel looked uneasy. The cool demeanor slipped away and you saw nothing but sincerity in his eyes. He lowered his gaze, slowly backing away from the bed. 
“I understand if you need time to process all of it. I know you’re recovering, but I promised myself that I’d tell you the minute you woke up.” He shifted his weight to one foot with uncertainty. “I can go if you wish.”
Azriel turned, but you caught him by the wrist. His gaze dipped down to your hand and you noticed the way he clocked the lack of hesitation in your grip as you slipped your delicate fingers through his scarred ones. 
“Stay.” 
The word stretched between you. Azriel softened, linking his fingers in yours as you scooted over to make room for him on the bed. He leaned against the headboard and you turned, slightly grimacing from the movement. Azriel instantly wrapped his arm around your waist to support you. 
“Can we start over?” you asked softly. “I’d like to get to know you, Azriel. The real you. Starting tonight.” 
There was so much hope swimming in his eyes that your heart fluttered at the sight. 
“I think I’d really like that,” he whispers tenderly. 
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theladyofbloodshed · 10 months
Note
Am I the only one who doesn't want Gwyn to be Eris' daughter?
I feel like it would make the age difference between these mated characters more blaringly obvious to see a character who is older than the sisters by couple of years,,, be the daughter/granddaughter of someone who's the age of their mate? It's so awkward to me, especially if her and Azriel end up together? It's icky
And on top of that I read a Azriel/Eris/Gwyn poly fic which will make things Really awkward for me cause I really liked the dynamics 😭😭
But everything is expected from sjm, like she had the audacity to write:
"Gwyn’s doing well,” Cassian said, nodding to the archway where the priestess had disappeared. “She’s a nice girl.”
Nesta had learned that Gwyn was twenty-eight—indeed, just a girl to him."
Like girl, Nesta is 25 at most, the fuck are you implying here? Is he even aware the implications of what she's writing? She makes me confused every day
I hate that everybody has to be linked too. It’s nasty!!
The age gaps are so gross - especially as none of these characters who are hundreds of years older have any sort of emotional maturity.
Batboys and mor
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At least Rhys expressed some discomfort at Feyre being 21 then cassians like so what? Your father was 10000x older than your mother. And then all is okay!
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acourtofladydeath · 6 months
Note
🎵💚 There’s frost on the moon and snow on the ground, but with you around there’s spring in my heart ❤️🎵
Hi it’s Santa!
I hope you’re doing well 🥰 Did you get up to anything for Halloween? (and if so what did you dress up as?)
Now that it’s November I’m personally so ready for it to be Christmas and I’ve been daydreaming about your gift.
I wanted to ask if you have any headcanons about the other Vanserra brothers, their relationship with Eris, Eris’s relationship with Beron and with his mom, Eris’s hounds?
And regarding Azriel, your headcanons about his shadows, his childhood, his mother, his time working under Rhys’s father, his relationships with Rhys and Cassian?
Lay it all on me. Do not hold back. Feel free to deviate and elaborate to your heart’s content. Your responses are what I’ll be harvesting details of their backstories from (I want to incorporate as many of your headcanons as possible since it’s your gift after all.) I’m always on the lookout for opportunities to ramp up the angst!
— Santa ❤️
Hi Santa!! So nice to hear from you!
I dressed as Peter Pan for Halloween this year, went to my lectures on campus, saw my professor's baby (he was dressed as an adorable little dragon. His parents were very excited for my costume but he, as a 10 month old, did not get it), and then did meal prep while watching ghost hunting videos.
It is 100% Christmastime, with a 3 day break for Thanksgiving mid-November and I'm so ready. I may start decorating this weekend.
Santa, I'm gonna need you to buckle up for the answers to these questions cuz HERE WE FUCKING GO.
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**note that these headcanons do not always work together, at the same time, or in the same fic. I just have lots of feelings on how this could/would go. I have many thoughts on many characters, and my interpretation of a character tends to change from fic to fic. Personification is different between fics and I love exploring different histories and interpretations of characters to see all of the "what ifs" and "okay buts" of fandom. This exploration and variety is part of what I love most about fanfiction. Below are some of my recurrent headcanons for these characters and their history, again these are my own opinions and not mean to be taken as the only interpretation or even the only interpretation I like to read/write.
Eris & The Vanserras
Eris and LOA are very close in age, leading to a very close relationship between the two of them, but also a lack of parenting in favor of friendship.
Eris is considerably older than his other siblings, or at least much more mature, and basically had to help raise them. This led to animosity between the brothers due to his having to order them around for their own damn good and to protect them from their father. He did whatever he could to shield them from Beron. I love exploring how this plays out. If they reconcile, then how? (I think so, and I hope so. I personally explore some of this in my fic And So Our Life Begins, and more so in the ASOLB spin off A Second Chance. They all have names and personalities and ).
He has done more to protect his mother and brothers than they will ever know, and he would rather that they didn't know because he doesn't want them taking pity on him. (I explore this a bit in my fic: The Soft Heart & The Shadow)
Eris basically raised Lucien himself, but instead of animosity, it lead to a very close relationship between the two despite the age gap. I also HC that Eris saw Lucien had power that was definitely not of Autumn, and he and LOA got in a fight about it. Not because he's mad she did it, but because he's scared about protecting them both.
Eris loves his hounds. He's very strict with them, but they're also some of the only people (besides Lucien and occasionally LOA) that Eris can let down his mask around, and they're some of the only living things that have seen the real him before he eventually opens up to Azriel. Because of this Azriel interacting with the hounds allows him to see more of Eris when he's still very skeptical of the male, and is part of why he's convinced to trust him and be his mate. I feel like the hounds are trained similarly to service dogs. When they're outside Eris's personal cabin/room, they're constantly working and putting on their best behavior, but when they're in that personal space, they're the most loving little affectionate puppies that ever existed.
Beron hates his son. Let's get that straight right now. HOWEVER I wonder if he respects the lengths Eris is willing to go to maintain his own power and protect his brothers, even if he hates that he's doing it. Like he might hate what Eris is doing with that power, but at least Eris has the wits and desire to USE that power. Just food for thought there with that one.
Azriel & his past
Azriel hates his father and brothers, and I think this is likely a large part of why he feels about Illyria as strongly as he does. He saw the worst of Illyria in those males, and I wonder if he has a hard time dissociating that awful image from the image of what Illyria could be, and the positive males that already do exist within it (people like Balthazar).
Azriel was a pawn for Rhys's father. He wasn't a person, just a tool to be used, and I think he still sees that interpretation of himself and his worthiness to this day. I think it greatly affects his self worth and his humanization of himself and his feelings. He struggles to see his value as a person with valid thoughts and emotions, because for so much of his life his value was that of a "thing". He sees himself as a weapon because it's what he had to be to survive within Rhys's father's court. I don't think he's ever had time, opportunity, or even a thought that he could be something else. I feel like his experience going from prisoner to training camp to expendable Night Court tool has greatly affected his mental health and his ability to stand up for himself. He will do what's asked of him because it's what is expected, even if it will break him in the end.
Azriel's Shadows came to him to protect him from the shadows and to protect him from himself. I think the darkness he had to get to in his own mind to pull those shadows to himself is deeper than he will ever admit. I love seeing the shadows have their own personalities and actions separate from what Az asks them to do. They're pesky little beasts that he loves dearly, but also can annoy the shit out of him when they don't do as they're told.
Azriel loves his mother and will do whatever he can to protect her, but neither feels like they can fully open up to the other. They're so worried about protecting each other they don't feel like they can truly reveal their feelings. She won't talk about her traumas, and he wont' talk about his because they don't want to burden each other. But they both know the traumas exist and want to try and help the other the best they can even without having the full story.
Azriel is a chronic pain sufferer from his hands. He doesn't say anything to anyone, and he only goes to Madja when it's so painful he literally can't function. I feel like he hides this too well, and even if he didn't hide it, he wouldn't accept help. I don't think he knows how to accept help.
Azriel & The Bat Boys (& Nesta)
I feel like Azriel feels like an outsider in most relationships of his life because of his past, but truly loves his found brother. I wonder if because of Az's relationship with Rhys's dad, he sometimes struggles with the dichotomy of working for someone who does actually care for him and sees him as a person.
I'm not sure Rhysand actually knows the extent to which his father used Azriel, and I wonder if this affects their working and friendly relationship. This is not a fully fleshed out headcanon for me, but it's an idea I keep coming back to.
I definitely think that Cassian and Azriel are closer to each other than they are to Rhys. I don't think this necessarily in a bad way, but with the power/boss dynamic and the fact that Cass and Az spend more time out in the field, in Illyria, and spent the entirety of UTM together there's a closeness there that they don't have with Rhys.
Look, y'all can disagree with me on this, but Cass and Az have most definitely fucked. It's canon that all 3 fucked people in the same room together, but I feel like Cass and Az have fucked each other and fucked other people together. IDK how you're a 500 year old anything and aren't very sexually open.
If Azriel is going to open up to anyone emotionally it's going to be Cassian or Nesta.
Nesta is not a bat boy, but I HC that she and Az are best friends. I think they are the only two in the IC who can truly understand the depths of each other's pain. Their traumas are so deep and profound, and neither really wants to admit their weaknesses, but together they don't feel so alone and can maybe start to heal. I think Eris can also be this person for Az and Nesta. I'm so here for any type of fic that discusses their pain (I regularly inhale @kale-theteaqueen's fic The Whole Truth because it gives me all of the feels and is so accurate to how I see Nesta and myself in Nesta. The way Azriel and honestly most of the IC are depicted in that fic. I also feel like their fic Burning From the Inside Out also depicts them (Nesta and Azriel specifically) closely to how I view them. And as a chronic pain sufferer myself, it's near and dear to my heart. Basically just read their masterlist, because I also reread Of Death and Resurrection regularly for the same reasons listed above, and I love the Rhysta friendships they develop as well.
Okay. Could I keep going? YOU FUCKING KNOW IT. Should I? Probably not, I've spent way too long writing this up already and I've gotta cut myself off so I can work on my WIPs. I'm still probably forgetting something I'll remember later on...
Please let me know if it's okay to keep recommending you fics when I answer your questions, sometimes it just feels like the best way to address them. As usual, please let me know if you'd like me to further describe/elaborate on anything here! I hope you're doing well, and it's so great to hear from you!! I'm really looking forward to this reveal and the fic!!
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grimeysociety · 2 years
Note
Um, ok, what if Darcy was a volunteer at an animal rescue, and one day someone (pairing of your choice, Steve, Bucky, or Wanda) comes in looking for a furry companion because their therapist recommended adopting a pet. My pick would be Steve, because I feel like there is a deep well of loneliness in him. Either part of the MCU or AU, dealer's choice.
(ugh, I hope things idea doesn't suck)
Ah, this is such a sweet idea and I love it so much! Thank you bb. 🥰
(T, 1,707 words, un-beta’d)
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Most likely, he’d walk into this place and walk out alone. He didn’t know what he was looking for, and he had little hope a dog would actually like him since he’d never owned one before.
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Steve sighed, glancing at the front door to the shelter. He came in the middle of the afternoon on a Wednesday to avoid seeing too many people. He felt kind of embarrassed about this whole thing because he didn’t know what he was doing. His therapist had mentioned a companion more than once, and because he was against dating anyone right now, they’d agreed that a pet would be a better choice.
Most likely, he’d walk into this place and walk out alone. He didn’t know what he was looking for, and he had little hope a dog would actually like him since he’d never owned one before. He could hear distant barking from his car when he parked it, and now that he was closer to the building he could smell the earthy animal scents from beyond.
He readied himself for overstimulation, moving to open the door gingerly when it suddenly slammed open and he jumped back, a middle-aged woman emerging, led by a giant husky that barked constantly.
“Shut up, you goof,” the woman grumbled, but she was smiling.
Her iron hair matched the dog’s, something that made Steve stare after them, a smile threatening to form on his face. The door was left ajar and he heard a female voice call out from within:
“Next?”
He walked inside, rubbing the back of his head as he went to the front desk where a young brunette stood in her navy polo shirt and dirty matching pants. Her clothes were covered in different types of fur and her arms had little nicks along them in varying stages of healing. Her shirt pocket had a name across it in italics – Darcy.
“Hi, I, uh… I was thinking about adopting a pet.”
“That’s great!” she said, and she seemed to mean it, smiling up at him.
She had a gap in her front teeth and Steve nodded at her, a little distracted. He felt obligated to talk more, to give her context. Usually with strangers he wanted to fly under the radar but this was somehow different.
He wasn’t an idiot – she was cute, but it was hardly the place or time to try to impress her when he was meant to be deciding on a pet.
“What were you thinking?”
“Pardon?” he said, and she chuckled.
“Do you want a cat?”
He respected cats, but he knew he’d only disappoint a cat. A dog seemed like a safer option; they were man’s best friend after all. He shook his head.
“Uh, better not.”
“Okay,” she said, chuckling again. “I’m free now, so I can show you the kennels.”
She detached keys from the carabiner on her pants, which made Steve stare at her hips for a beat before he looked away. She gestured to an exit and he followed her out, the barks growing louder as they slipped through another backdoor Darcy propped open for him.
There was a long line of dogs, with another worker walking one in the middle of the courtyard at the center of the kennels. She gave Darcy a little wave, the dog she was walking deep in thought, sniffing the teeny patch of grass. It was some type of border collie, with one blue eye and one yellow eye. It tilted its head at Steve as they passed.
“He’s getting picked up in a little while,” Darcy explained. “I knew he’d be adopted fast.”
“Good for him,” Steve said. “What’s his name?”
“Bandit.”
Steve nodded, watching Bandit go back to sniffing and circling. Darcy gestured to the line of dogs and he followed her. He felt inexplicably nervous.
“I’ll let you check them out,” she said, and Steve nodded once more. “I should take over for Lizzie.”
She swapped with the other worker and began walking Bandit, cooing at him and petting him as Steve delayed the inevitable. He drew in a breath, unsure of how he was meant to decide on anything.
Some of the dogs were hiding at the back of their little fenced off spaces. A couple barked at him, snapping their jaws. Others whined and paced. It was overwhelming, Steve’s nervousness turning to a kind of guilt. It felt wrong that they didn’t have a home, but he couldn’t take them all. Maybe this was a terrible idea.
He stopped at the end, seeing a dog come up to the fence, its tail wagging. It was a mix of orange-golden and white fur with a long snout and big brown eyes. Steve didn’t know why, but he crouched by it, placing his hand against the fence for it to sniff his skin.
“Hey, little fella,” he murmured.
The dog reacted immediately, its front paws hitting the cement floor with alternating stamps. It ducked down and sniffed, its tongue darting out to lick what it could reach.
“You wanna come home with me?” Steve asked.
The dog seemed to understand the significance of this, bounding back and barking. Steve gripped the fencing, glancing over at Darcy. She was already watching him, Bandit sniffing her sneaker.
“What kinda breed is this one?”
“Boxer-cross,” Darcy said.
She wandered over, Bandit trotting. She stopped beside him, sorting through the keys. Bandit started to bark and bounce. She unlocked the little doorway and Steve stepped inside, the boxer-cross jumping on top of him instantly. He was licked all over his face, his laughs spilling forth as Darcy chuckled.
“That’s Buddy, he was surrendered last week,” she explained.
He kept wanting to lick at Steve, his paws on his thighs, tail wagging faster. His fur was soft and silky, which led Steve to believe he was health.
“How come?”
“His owner died,” Darcy murmured, and Steve looked at Buddy again, giving him some harder rubs.
“Poor guy.”
“Yeah, his owner’s daughter had to bring him here, her landlord wouldn’t let her keep a dog in her apartment,” Darcy said, sounding frustrated. “Which is ridiculous. He’s like, the nicest dog I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a lot of ’em.”
“I believe you,” Steve said, Buddy’s tongue swiping at his cheek.
Man and dog stared at one another and Steve felt something unfurling in his chest.
“Could I…? I mean, can I keep him?”
“Yes!” Darcy said, and Steve found himself pulling Buddy into his arms.
Steve loved Buddy. He knew that the second he held him to his chest. The dog wriggled, too excited to contain himself, licking him as Darcy took them back to the main reception. Steve had to put a leash on him and keep him next to him as he filled out paperwork.
Darcy leaned against the table, watching him do this, and Steve began to feel self-conscious.
“You changed when you saw him,” she said, and he looked at her, pen hovering.
“Yeah, that’s probably true,” Steve admitted. He shook his head a little. “I wasn’t too sure about coming here, but I’ve been told I needed someone else…”
He trailed off, unsure of whether to divulge too much. He could come across a little nuts if he wasn’t careful.
“My therapist, uh,” he muttered, eyes ducking back to the paperwork. He initialled the bottom of the page and flipped it over. “She thought it was a good idea to get a pet. So I was less lonely.”
He dreaded looking back at her but he made himself, seeing Darcy nod at him, empathetic.
“I’m glad you gave it a shot,” she said. “I think we all should have a pet to keep us company.”
There was a short silence, Darcy’s eyes studying him, her head tilting.
“Why weren’t you sure?”
“I’ve never had a dog before,” Steve said, and she nodded. “Uh, does that exempt me?”
He’d already signed everything. He just had to pay the adoption fee. Darcy shook her head, smirking.
“Absolutely the fuck not.”
He let out a short laugh, relieved. “Great. Except now you know I don’t know what I’m doin’.”
She began to laugh, and Steve’s stomach flipped. She reached for something beside the computer monitor in front of her and took out a business card.
“My cell number’s on there,” she said. “Call me if you’ve got questions.”
Steve took it, eyes lingering on hers. Darcy was the one to look away that time, eyes falling to Buddy.
“You’ll be very happy together.”
Steve nodded, sure of this. He already felt a flurry of affection every time Buddy’s tail hit his leg as it wagged. He looked at Darcy again.
“Thanks.”
“It’s my job,” Darcy said.
Once he paid and took his receipt, Steve turned to walk out the door. Darcy waved them goodbye and they set out into the parking lot, the sun beaming down on Buddy’s fur.
The dog looked up at him when they got to Steve’s car.
“You gotta sit in the front seat,” Steve said. “I don’t have a cage for ya.”
Maybe Buddy was hesitating because he wasn’t sure. He could sense the trajectory of his life – or maybe Steve was romanticising this a little. He just really cared about this little guy, and he’d only known him half an hour.
Buddy gave a bark, and Steve frowned.
“You okay?”
Buddy’s head turned toward the shelter’s front door. Steve thought about Darcy, and how she’d made him stare and fumble his words. He swallowed.
“Alright, I got it.”
He’d already taken a risk today and it paid off. Another wouldn’t hurt. He could picture his therapist punching the air when he told her how his week had been and he shook his head a little.
He opened the door again, Buddy tugging him inside. Darcy glanced up from her monitor, a pair of spectacles on this time, which she pushed up her nose.
“Oh. Did you forget something?”
“Your number,” Steve said, putting a hand on the desk between them. “Can I use it for non-dog-related reasons, too?”
It took a second for his words to register, and then Darcy’s cheeks flushed, her lips parting. She bit her plush lower lip as she grinned.
“Yeah, sure. Anytime.”
“I meant for dinner and movie sometime –”
“Yeah, I figured,” Darcy said, and she put out a hand for him to shake.
“Steve.”
“Nice to meet you.”
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hellogoodbye14 · 2 years
Text
Veiled Silhouettes (Part 7) - Gwynriel
The update that took a while! But here we are with perhaps one of the longest one’s. Enjoy a spying duo, an revenge ready IC, some baby nyx fluff, a hot hallway make out session and angst (dont hate me for the angst, this fic was fluffy so far, it had to happen😂)
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Azriel took the lead as they kept close to the wall, using the shadows as cover. Gwyn guessed he was following the voices they could hear.
“Don’t make me ask you again,” growled Kai, Koschei’s second.
“I can’t tell you what I don’t know.” Azriel’s eyebrows popped up. It was the sound of Beron’s second son, Riven. He sounded cool and collected, but the shadows informed him of his nervousness.
Gwyn found the door ajar. Staying within the shadows, Azriel moved to the opposite side of the doorframe while she peeked through the gap near the hinges of the door. Riven was flanked by two Autumn guards and over six of Kai’s men were present.
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Pacing, Kai sniggered.
“You said Eris knew the whereabouts of Rhysands family. Had access to them.”
Riven nodded, “I know he does but he is careful to cover his tracks. Anytime I try to follow, he manages to evade me.”
“You had your men search an entry to the Night Court and couldn’t find anything?”
Azriel could see Riven gulp.
“Their spymaster is good Kai, no spy that I have sent into the Night Court has ever returned.”
That was when Kai took a hold of the nearest vass and smashed it into the ground.
“Do something! I need the child, he is the key to unlocking the portal.”
Gwyn’s heart stopped. Nyx. They wanted Nyx.
Riven implored, “Rhysand and his mate have kept their son safe. It is impossible to get the child and even if you did, there is a shield around their son.”
Kai moved and wrapped a hand around Riven’s throat.
“I will deal with that. You just get me the whereabouts of that child.”
“They will kill you.”
Kai smirked, “His blood, blood which sings the power of all of Prythian will unlock the portals to the other dimension. We’ll have an infinite army that will perish whatever power they have.”
“But- but he’s just a child.”
Kai simply raised an eyebrow, “Does it look like killing that little bastard will bother me in the slightest.”
Azriel’s temper flared his siphons. He would kill them, kill them all.
He felt Gwyn’s hand on his arm, she squeezed just a bit. Her teal eyes imploring him to stay grounded.
He nodded, and ushered her towards the dark hall. They had all the information they needed.
Azriel and Gwyn made their way out of the stronghold without anyone being the wiser of their infiltration.
Azriel stood near the lake, wondering how he was to break this news to his brother. They wanted his child, an innocent soul which had just come into this world.
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Gwyn kept pacing and cursing at Koschei. Azriel’s eyebrows raised at some of the harsh expletives she was using.
“This is madness, Nyx is just a child.”
“People with a mentality like they do never care for such things.”
He laced his hand with hers and she stopped pacing. He could see the worry in her eyes for the little guy who owned all their hearts.
A ferociousness entered her eyes, “We can’t let anything happen to him.”
Azriel couldn’t help but admire the protectiveness she felt for his nephew.
“We won’t.”
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The news hit the Night Court Circle as he expected it to.
Rhysand’s power had rumbled instantly and caused a landslide in the barren mountains, a large distance away from Velaris.
Feyre’s eyes carried a protective storm and she looked as if she’d winnow straight to Kai and cut his throat off.
Nesta and Mor were cursing a blue streak and demanding they obliterate Koschei’s army tonight, Cassian was trying and failing to calm both of them down.
Amren sat in the distance, watching the sky outside in silence. Meanwhile, Lucien looked at her as if she would decimate Prythian in half a second.
“Why Nyx? Why not me? If its the power of every court they seek in blood, they could have picked me.”, questioned Feyre.
Rhys sat down, a calm killing eeriness entering his eyes.
“Because you’re trained and in control of your powers. It would be easier to capture and use a toddler.”
“What do we do?”, demanded Nesta.
“They can’t get their hands on Nyx”, added Mor.
Rhysand simply laid back in his chair, Azriel already knew his High Lord was scheming something.
“They won’t lay a hand on Nyx. They try and I will obliterate everything.”, Rhys said with deadly calm.
Feyre nodded in agreement, her hand squeezing her mates tense shoulder. “Seems to me they need a reminder of what we can be capable of.”
Gwyn tensed, the power thrumming between the High Lord and Lady was something she had never seen before. She knew in that moment, that if they wanted to, they really could obliterate everything with the power they held. It amazed her how they were good rulers who never abused such power, but to protect their child, they’d go to hell and back.
Amren turned around with a devlish smile, “How big of a reminder are we talking?”
Feyre smirked, “Very big.”
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After the the insane plan had been concoted, it was also decided that Nyx would be protected in Velaris at all times. He would only ever be with his parents or anyone looking after him from the inner circle.
Rhys and Feyre sat on the living room floor playing with their son. Nyx laughed as small water wolves lept around him playfully and wisps of Rhys’s night kissed shadows tickled the toddler.
He felt Gwyn move closer, “They are an adorable family. A little bit insane for what they just came up with but adorable nonetheless.”
Azriel chuckled, “Yeah.”
“So looks like you and I will be camping out in Autumn a bit longer.”
He tilted his head, “Sick of me already roomie?”
Her teal eyes glimmered in amusement.
“You? Never.”
Azriel couldn’t help but inch closer, “That’s good. Wouldn’t want that now would we.”
The pupils in Gwyns eyes darkened and she whispered as her gaze landed on his lips.
“No. No we wouldn’t.”
Someone coughed and Gwyn and Azriel instantly shrank back.
Nesta stood there, her gaze pinging between the two and a smirk forming.
“Sorry to interrupt whatever that was but I wanted to speak to Gwyn before you both left for Autumn again.”
Nesta dragged Gwyn away and the priestess offered a quick wave before stumbling after her.
Azriel felt Cassians arm drape across his shoulder, “Didn’t know you could blush that hard dear brother.”
Azriel shoved his laughing brother away.
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Azriel couldn’t help himself, he moved in the hallway towards the guest room Gwyn was staying at tonight. Over the past couple of weeks, he was used to them playing a game of cards and bickering that it seemed wrong to go on without this new tradition.
He was just about to turn when a lithe body slammed against him. He quickly grabbed Gwyn’s shoulders to steady her.
“Ow!”, she said rubbing her head.
He snickered, “You alright?”
“Probably got a concussion stumbling into concrete but yeah otherwise I’m okay.”
“Where were you off too?”
She looked up at him, a rosy blush staining her freckled cheeks.
“Oh, umm. I was actually looking for you.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Me?”
“Yes, unless you forgot it was my turn to decimate you at cards?”
He snickered, “Dream on Valkyrie, you’re not going to win.”
“I will. I have a few tactics to use you see.”
He leaned against the wall. “And pray tell what are these tactics?”
She shrugged, “I find distractions to be very successful in defeating an opponent.”
He leaned closer, “And you would distract me how?”
A fiery boldness swept through Gwyn as she stepped forward and laced her hand over his chest. Azriel was pretty sure he stopped breathing. Her other hand travelled up towards the back of his head. She played with the short hair at the back until pushing lightly.
He implored her silent request, his head bending down and his arm pressing the back of her waist closer to him.
Her lips brushed against his, “Like this?”, she whispered before kissing him.
Azriel groaned at her taste and bunched his other hand in her red-auburn locks. He deepened the kiss and felt Gwyn sigh. She pressed closer to him and he pushed her against the wall, his hand travelling down, grasping and lifting her thigh.
“You taste might fine Valkyrie”, he whispered in her arched ear.
She groaned at the contact of his hardness against her core and pulled him closer as he devoured her mouth.
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She would have pulled him into her room close by had she not heard a surprised gasp.
Both of them instantly stilled and moved away to find a shocked Elain standing in the hallway.
“I’m- I’m so sorry. I didn’t meant to-“
Gwyn quickly corrected her skirt and moved away from Azriel . She offered Elain a small smile. It was their fault for indulging in this out in the open. “No no it’s completely fine. It’s our bad actually.”
Elain nodded, her gaze drifting to a silent Azriel.
“Umm, I was just heading to my room.”
Gwyn nodded. Elain had just started walking again until her gaze landed on the necklace Gwyn wore. Recognition sparking in her eyes, Gwyn frowned. How would Elain recognise a necklace some unknown person had sent her?
Elain’s eyes traveled back to Azriel, “You gave it to her?”
Gwyn’s heartbeat quickened and it had nothing to do with the heated kiss she had shared with the Shadowsinger. A sick feeling entered her stomach.
Azriel simply nodded. Gwyn frowned, “Gave me what?”
Elain simply offered her a small smile, “Nevermind. It’s a beautiful necklace Gwyn. I bid you both goodnight.”
Gwyn turned to Azriel, “What was that about?”
He shook his head, a hollowness entering his eyes. “It’s nothing.”
He looked into her teal eyes with longing and a deep sadness.
“Az..did.. did you give me this necklace?”
He nodded, his gaze not meeting hers.
“You gave it to her first?”
Silence and then a “yes.”
She flinched, “But- I don’t understand. What does it mean?”
“It doesn’t mean anything. This… I’m sorry Gwyn.”
She frowned, a hurt she couldn’t explain growing as he walked away from her.
It doesn’t mean anything…. the necklace? Or the blossoming thing they had?
It didn’t matter enough apparently. At least not to him. A silent tear tracked down her cheek.
To be continued….
Taglist: @vikingmagic33 @the-lonelybarricade @meher-sumedha @hlizer50 @amb3rpanda @snickerdoodlechittybangbang @sv0430 @shisingh @chubbygabs @trashforazriel @imsointobooks @kattykatpattywack @schnipperxdwrites @kneelingsince2012 @brieq @the-word-cas @gellybeangoogle @alexiaperdomo @earthoffemily @sydney-fae25 @camreadsum @imwritingthesewords @almosttenaciousmoon @nestaspegasus @buttoncup @smahesh87 @itwasalwaysaboutthetea
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liyazaki · 1 year
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i love you.
GAP THE SERIES | EP. 11 [2022-2023]
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morkofday · 2 years
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BL Tag Game
thank you for tagging me my beloved mor @liyazaki ♥ i did this once with my friend kiddo bc we like to do these tag games privately amongst ourselves but nice to finally do this “properly” ^^ also taking some of your newly phrased questions and possibly making some of my own~
look at the original list of questions on mor’s post bc am too lazy to include them  
tagging: @namchyoon​ @talaypuens​ @snimeat​ @icouldhyperfixatehim​ @hils79​ @nongnaos​ @basvpr​ @machikeita​ no pressure as always and if you’ve already done this recently, link me!
placing under a cut bc there are sooo many gifs, am sorry!
current favorite bl character and why let’s make it known that there will never ever be a character like pran for me but bc bad buddy, sadly enough, isn’t airing anymore and is now kind of gone (oh we wish, the brainrot never leaves), i decided to take someone else. and that must be fah from sky in your heart. i was absolutely enamored by him from the moment i first saw him in star in my mind until the last second of the star and sky special ep. he is my man, my bean, my blorbo. i wish there had been more time and space for him to get explored more as a character bc i feel like mek poured everything he had in him into acting as fah but this is all i got and i need to survive. so all i can say is that i am happy to know that he is now learning about love and how it can belong into his life even if he does what he feels is his calling ♥ 
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mek jirakit the man that you are... dreamy sigh 
one character from a bl you wanted to punt in to the stratosphere was trying very hard to think about the bls i’ve watched lately and pick someone from there but have to say that it takes a lot to annoy me these days, outside of the character being just one of the bad guys in the drama. but i do want to mention sing from triage who i wish would’ve gotten over his petulancy to talk about his own feelings for gap and would’ve made it known since the beginning that he actually cared. and theother one would be in from my dear loser: edge of 17/our skyy who i do find kind of funny to watch but who deserved a beating for being one of those guys who refuses to be called gay and then hurts the person they care about. i dunno if he’s been redeemed but my guy, grow a spine. sun deserves way better if you don’t. 
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what we should’ve gotten more bc i knew sing was a damn softie 
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boy is having not so straight realizations about himself and i am cackling in the corner, serves you right you moron
best music moment from a bl i’ve truly been appreciating some of the music in bls lately, probably bc the music has gotten better in general. once upon a time bls didn’t care about their title songs or anything at all. everything sounded the damn same and i never got attached to any of it. bad buddy changed me and not me was a whole chapter of its own (hoping more bls would take such amazing liberties with the bg music). currently am obsessed with vice versa’s title song. but the best music moment lately has been the eclipse’s title song in the official trailer which somehow resembles the song safe and sound by clngr they used in the first trailer (i am very emotionally attached to this ok, am sorry). i have somewhat high hopes for that show’s soundtrack ngl :’D 
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the kiss in the first trailer still gives me chills like. damn. this show is going to wreck my whole ass, i feel it
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the mv for this is so stunning?? i love the song and the vibes so much 
a bl you'd like to see adapted into a musical this question is inspired by the fact that ohmnanon’s fanmeeting felt like bad buddy the musical. it was so cool. 10/10 would do that again. but then it had me thinking that dang some of the bls could really work as hsm type of musicals. my first picks after bad buddy would be the shipper (imagine the chaos?? the stuff they could do with the body swapping! the costumes for the angels!! give it to me) and enchanté (they could do a whole ass love songs montage and i would be over the moon. also the pining happening through songs!! am shaking screaming weeping on the floor). 
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what legendary hsm song is this, i’d say can i have this dance (imagine akktheo slow dancing... maybe at their wedding sob)
a scene from a bl that always makes you laugh wow i feel like i just suddenly forgot what i’ve laughed at ever in my life other than the worst puns known to a man. but if i think back on some of the first bls i ever watched, i gotta say that in together with me, which i will forever think of fondly mind you, i will always laugh at the scene when in one of the first eps knock’s gf comes to visit his home and knock is trying to be a good bf and takes her around the market and bc he gets distracted by a phone call, he ends up grabbing korn’s hand instead of hers. his face is just so good when he walks hand in hand with who he thinks is his gf and then suddenly stands face to face with her and you can see the wheels turning inside his head while he tries to understand how it’s possible :’D 
(tried finding a gif of this but ppl have only focused on the sexy times so no luck lol)
biggest bl disappointment i try my best to get into bls without any expectations (and we ignore vice versa in this ok, that one is a black sheep and i don’t even understand why). but if i think about actual disappointments - and now i don’t mean shows i thought were actually just bad and scarred me for life - i gotta say he’s coming to me. i still remember when i got into it bc i was curious about the plot and was happy to see ohm in another bl (i did watch make it right ages ago and liked him in it). i was feeling strange about singto since the beginning but thought it wouldn’t bother me too much. but the fact is that it was very hard to see any chemistry between the two. there was just... something about them that never sat right with me. otherwise the series is amazing. it’s just sad that the main couple lacking that spark leaves it kind of plain :/ idk why the casting choices were like this at the time but obviously they were struggling to find a guy who could play a character coming from another timeline (not to have the ohmnanon goggles on but wish we had had nanon in 55:15 back then).
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god i’ve really forgotten how Young ohm is in this?? like that is a literal baby, barely out of braces 
two random bl characters who would be besties oh dang, now that i started thinking about it, i kind of want to say talay form vice versa and sangwoo from semantic error. i spontaneusly binged semantic error the other day and i loved it a lot. sangwoo operating like a computer was very amusing to me and i feel like talay would click with him with his color theory brain. they could both whine about how nonsensical love is and how they absolutely do not need it while having adoring bfs at home haha. but i also feel like they both would understand how scary it is to fall in love in that type of situation and how hard it can be to let go of your heart, to allow it to feel. 
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my beloved!! you will know love like nobody else, i swear
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another beloved. just a tiny baby. fits inside my pocket. would probably swat at me and then hiss
the bl that got you into bl and would you make other ppl watch it now the bl that got me into bl or just the first bl i ever watched was this 2016 series grey rainbow. it’s a very short but angsty one and i cried my eyes out. dunno why i wanted to start with something like this but it’s probably good i did. at least i didn’t start with some high school nonsense straight away and instead eased my way into it. then, would i make other ppl watch it today? absolutely. am so happy kiddo watched this and liked it. i am very fond of this one even if i can barely remember anything else but my own heartbreak. 
best wardrobe moment/or character wardrobe from a bl i could mention everyone in not me but that feels like too much of a cliché. i could also mention pat and pran but i don’t truly dress like that myself. so i will once again settle on the absolute fashion icon that is khai in theory of love. he has the exact style i wish i could have for myself. i adore him so much. honorary mentions go to vegas and tay from kinnporsche the series bc i love them and i really wanna steal tay’s gender ♥
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the epitome of if evil why sexy
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he is so beautiful i want to eat my own arm
thank you if you read this far! sorry i went very off road with many of these. have a wonderful day everyone! ♥
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itattooi · 11 months
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LASH EXTENSIONS Get to know the application process
Lash extensions are a great way to add volume and length to your natural lashes.  They can enhance your eyes and give your mor glamorous look.  If you are interested in trying lash extensions, here are some instructions so you know what to expect.
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Choose the right lash extensions: There are many different types of lash extensions available, so it’s important to choose the right ones for your needs.  Consider the length, thickness, and curl of the lashes, as well as the material they are made from (synthetic, mink, silk etc.).  Also available in classic single lashes or fan lashes consisting of a number of single lashes grouped together resulting in a fan style. Consult with a professional or do some research to find the best lash extensions for you. 
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Prepare the lashes: Before applying lash extensions, you need to prepare your natural lashes by cleaning them thoroughly.  Remove any makeup or oils from your eyelids with a gentle cleanser and make sure your lashes are completely dry.
Only a drop of lash adhesive is necessary.  The drop is generally set onto a jade stone or custom finger ring.  Apply lash adhesive:  Using tweezers pickup a single lash extension by the tapered end and swipe the thicker base.  Using this single lash like a paint brush apply a small amount of lash adhesive on the base individual lash.  Be careful not to use to much, as this can cause the lashes to clump together.  
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Place the lash extension:  Using tweezers or a special lash extension tool, gently place the lash extension on top of the natural eyelash, as close to the base as possible.  Hold the extension in place for a few seconds to allow the adhesive to dry.
Repeat the process:  Continue applying lash extensions one at a time, working your way along the lash line.  be sure to leave a small gap between each extension to avoid a crowded or unnatural look. 
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Because the lashes come in a variety of lengths, thickness, design and curl there is no need to trim and shape the lashes.  If you do need to trim a single lash always trim from the base of the single lash, using small scissors to trim any extensions that is too long.  You cannot trim the flair or fan style lashes because they are connected together at the base.  It would destroy the lash making it unusable.  Don’t use an eyelash curler to curl the applied lashes.  This is why it is important to choose the correct shape of lashes.  Using an eyelash curler will interfere with the adhesive and loosen the lashes shortening the life.  The lashes won’t stay as intended and fall off early.
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Maintain the lashes: To keep you lashes extension looking their best, avoid rubbing your eyes or using oil-based products near your lashes.   You will  need to have them filled in every few weeks, as the extensions will naturally fall out over time.
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Appling lash extensions takes practice and patience.  It not advisable to try this on your own. Professionals go through a extensive training to master the art of applying lash extensions.  Let the professional lash technician deliver flawless lashes that are beautiful, natural-looking lashes that enhance your eyes and make you feel confident and glamorous. 
Since 1995 EZPMU.com has provided supplies and support to professionals around the world.  We are always happy to answer you questions.  We want to be your supply source.
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tyrantdotexe · 1 year
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[...]
KHARIS DARSEI
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Age: 73 sweeps Height: 5'10" Gender: Male (he/him) Blood: Jade (#0f201f)
Symbol
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Trolltag: schismaticAxiom
[ As you wish. ]
About
Public Sector: Second-in-Command; Lieutenant Intelligence Coven Mors Sancti: Death Dealer
A first-class Lieutenant with unmatched talent in the Intelligence sector, Kharis excelled along the ranks at the impressively young age of 50. He secured a lofty position within one of the few high-ranking platoons within the Fleet only 30 sweeps into his service. Under the proud command of the prodigious ▇▇▇▇▇▇, he--
An agile Death Dealer and an irreplaceable ally, Kharis stands among the ranks of the undead army under famed rainbow-drinker coven, Mors Sancti. Despite his low rank and fledgling status, his abilities are not unlike his superiors and is assumed a promising future among his peers.
Personality
A dispirited, monotonous man with a foreshortened sense of future. He possesses a recalcitrant attitude towards any and all authority, but is often saved by his usefulness and utility for them. Since his untimely death, he struggles with presenting emotion, yet is unusually tolerant of everyone. Volatile when provoked, but otherwise level-headed.
Content Warning: Mutilation, war-related PTSD, gore, cannibalism, disorderly eating, suicidal ideation
Additional information
Was murdered at age 54. His case has gone cold and has since been backlogged by Tyrian command.
Pledges his allegiance to Mors Sancti, a rainbow-drinker exclusive Coven. Without formal noble rank, he ranks as a military man.
Considerably asocial. Finds it difficult to connect meaningfully with his peers post-mortem.
There was a notable gap between when his body was dumped and when he revived as a rainbow-drinker. This time-lapse is likely what contributed to his apathetic personality.
Both a Sanguinarian and a Psychic type of drinker. He can siphon energy as needed, but prefers feasting.
Tags for fun
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animatorweirdo · 3 years
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Frozen heart: Into the dark
Warning: Orcs dying. 
Imagine: hanging out with your elf friend for the last time, but your heart decided to ruin things up.
part four
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You laid on the grass, enjoying the smell of flowers and the breeze of the wind. Maglor played the harp, like a cupid from Heaven, because you're definitely in love with his music. Some of the animals of the forest have stopped to listen to his song. The melody he played has turned your moody, dark world into a peaceful paradise. You have even started sleeping well. His music has affected your sleeping quite drastically. You started to see fewer nightmares and sleep better than ever in your life.
Things between you and him have turned interesting as well. You two have started hanging out, and this little meadow where you two first met has turned into a little haven from all the drama of the world for you two only. You could say you two are close friends now. You two come here often to talk about things and sometimes to just enjoy each other's company. Complaining about family is a basic subject between you two. Maglor sometimes played songs, and you listened. Listening him sing was one of your favorite things to hear during the day. He just had that ability to make you feel calm and happy.
You smiled at the memory when you took Maglor to your place. Camilla freaked out since you two had an elven royalty in your house. Your house was not the fanciest place to house a royal elf. Luckily, Maglor helped to calm her down then everything was good in the end. It has been two weeks since that happened. You and Maglor turned this meadow into a hanging spot since the people of your village were not very comfortable with; an elf hanging around. Not in a bad way, though. You two didn't mind. It means you two can complain about your family and people in general in peace in this meadow of yours.
Maglor finished his song, then all turned quiet. The birds and animals continued their business. Allowing the sounds of nature to fill the silence. "Heh, are you a siren because you enchant me with your voice?" You said. He chuckled. "I'm not sure what this 'siren' is, but I take it as a compliment," He said. You mentally scolded yourself. Don't say stuff he might not understand, and why did you say that sentence. It sounded like a pick-up line.
"(Name), I need to tell you something," He suddenly said. You looked at him curiously. "What is it?" You asked. "I'm afraid we won't be able to see each other for a while. I need to return to my fortress at the other side of this land," He pointed toward the place where his fortress Maglor's gap resided. You sat up, feeling a bit sad. You could ask him to stay longer, but he had his duties as a prince and a lord of his land. "Is something happening in the north?" You asked. Morgoth guy's fortress Angband is supposedly there. It's the place where all the orcs and wargs are coming from. Maglor's kin, the Noldor, are keeping careful watch over the place.
"Not yet so far," He answered your question. "Hopefully, it stays that way," He said. "My brother just asked me to go check on things while my five younger ones are fooling around in their own lands," He said. Oh yeah, Maglor has six brothers. You almost spurted all your water on him when he told you that. His parents apparently couldn't keep their hands from each other. "It sounds like you have it busy," You stated. "It might have been peaceful for thousands of years since Morgoth has been contained, but they should not take this peace for granted. Who knows what happens next out of the sudden?" He said. He glanced at the pure clear sky with a thoughtful expression. "It almost reminds me of our time in Valinor, when all this didn't happen yet," He said. You could see the longing and sadness in his eyes. It made you frown because you didn't like seeing him like this.
He told you about his original home, Valinor. It's apparently the blessed lands where the valars and the rest of his kin live. Everyone lived there happily until Morgoth happened. He apparently destroyed two very valued trees and caused chaos among the elves. He killed Maglor's grandfather, the former high king of Noldor, and stole his father's most precious heirloom, the silmarils. Then some other bad things happened, but you won't go for that now.
"Well, I wouldn't know how living with six brothers is like. I only had one little brother," You smiled. "What is your family like?" He looked at you. Your heart froze for a moment; your family. Memories about the nightmare came back to you. Your father, mother, and little brother lying on the ground. Dead. Your grandma standing at the edge of the forest with that smile of hers. "It's nothing important, just a normal boring family," You tried to change the subject. "Well, I would be interested to hear about this boring family of yours," He said with a smile. Dammit, Maglor. You tried to come up with an excuse to avoid the subject. It's been years since the incident with your family.
Your heart suddenly let out a strange pulse. It was like your whole body paralyzed with shock. Your eyes widened in horror. You knew that pulse all too well. No, no, no...
"Sorry... but I need to go," You quickly stood up. Maglor frowned at your reaction. "Is something wrong?" He stood up. "It's nothing serious, I... just... need to..." Your breathing became heavier. "Go home," You gulped and turned around. "Was it something I said?" Maglor was feeling a bit worried right now. "No!" You almost yelled. He stood back from your outburst, and you immeadedly felt guilty. "You did nothing wrong... it's just..." You hesitated. "Me..." You turned away and started running toward your village. You ran away quickly as your legs can carry. Maglor looked after you until you disappeared from his sight. He frowned deeply. You looked fine moments ago until he asked about your family. You looked uncomfortable and scared for some reason. He remembered the look in your eyes and the words you said. What did you mean that it was just... you?
You banged the door open, looking around in panic. The pulsing in your heart has become stronger, and it was causing you pain. It was like your heart was freezing from the inside. "Can you not bang the door like -" You cut Camilla off. "Where are my pills?!" You yelled. You ran through the cabinets in search of your pill container. Why did you leave it here for the day, you idiot! Camilla noticed your rabid breathing then she noticed the temperature dropping in the room. Panic overtook her. She started helping to look for your container. This was bad.
"Here!" You yelled in relief when you finally found it. Your heart dropped when you opened it. There were only; three pills left. Your heart let out another painful pulse. You groaned in pain, holding your chest. You leaned against the table. Your lungs gasped for air. "(Name)?" Camilla said. You turned toward the door, and with slow steps, approached it. "I... I need to," You gasped in pain. Your pale white hand reached the handle. "To do this..." Your voice went high. Tears flowed out of your eyes as you walked through the door.
You groaned as you walked to the back of your house, approached the forest. Why, why is this happening? You tried to make your legs go faster, but you tripped on your foot instead. You fell on your fours against the wet ground. You looked up and saw a puddle of water in front of you. You saw your reflection on the surface of the puddle. Another pulse made you almost scream from pain. You closed your eyes for a moment, then opened them. You stared at your reflection in horror as you saw your eyes glowing bright blue. You stood up and forced yourself to run into the forest. You couldn't allow it to happen here.
The night came for some time later. Camilla sat at the dinner table, a cup of tea warming up her hands. Tea wasn't her favorite drink of the month, but it was now the only thing to calm her growing anxiety over your sudden disappearance. Someone knocked on the door. She frowned in confusion and stood up. She walked up to the door to see who would be visiting at this time of an hour.
"Hey," Maglor greeted after she opened the door. "Isn't it a bit late to be visiting us?" She asked. "I wanted to apologize for something. Is (Name) here?" He asked. She hesitated for a moment. She did know where you were, but he can't know that. It's for his own safety. "She's not here at the moment and I don't think she will be back before midnight," She said. Maglor looked at her curiously. What were you doing exactly that you would stay so late? Were you avoiding him? He felt a bit heartbroken from the thought. "May I ask what happened between you two?" Camilla asked. "I might have said something very upsetting and wanted to apologize for that," He explained. Camilla frowned. "Did you ask about her family by any chance?" She asked. "I did..." He was a bit surprised. Then it hit him. He had an idea why you reacted that way. "Did something bad happened to them?" He asked. "If you know what I mean, then yes," She nodded. "I am very sorry," He said. Regret in his heart."It's a sensitive subject to her. She still sees nightmares about it, but you don't have to apologize for it. She will not blame you for asking," She explained. She then looked at the night sky. "It's late. You should go back. I will tell her you came by when she returns," She looked at him. "Thank you, and goodnight," He nodded. "You too," She said back, then closed the door. Maglor turned around, then glanced at the moon. He won't be back at least five months. Your reaction and state still concerned him, but you weren't here. He only wanted to make sure you were alright, but it seems he has to leave without a proper apology. He started walking away from your house, returning to his horse, who waited at the edge of the village.
Maglor rode back to his brother's fortress in Himring. Someone waited for him at the gates. "Where have you been?" His brother, Maedhros asked. He had a stern look on his face, and his arms were crossed. "Nowhere dangerous if that's what you're wondering," Maglor answered. "Well, it's unusual for you to stay out this long," Maedhros said. "I just had a little turn in the road," Maglor said. They were both disturbed by strange noises. "Do you hear that?" Maglor asked. They both listened. They heard sounds of screaming and then howls of wargs. They saw smoke rising in a forest. "Guard, send the order, prepare for battle," Maedhros said to one of his men. "Why are orcs this close to Himring?" Maglor questioned, not breaking his eyes from the forest. He felt confused and concerned. This meant orcs have passed through the siege. "Whatever it is, we are about to find out," Maedhros sat on his own horse. They then set out toward the rising smoke with soldiers riding right behind them.
Maglor and Maedhros arrived to an orc camp, which was on fire. Dead orcs laid on the ground, their dark blood painting the ground. The camp was destroyed, and even wargs laid dead on the ground. "Search the area," Maedhros ordered. His men then began securing the camp and make sure all the orcs were dead. Maglor looked at the camp with confusion in his eyes. "It looks like someone else managed to get them before we did," He said. He was concerned about how the orcs seemed to be severed into pieces. The wounds they had didn't look like they were from a sword. He then saw some of the dead orcs bearing wounds like someone took a huge bite out of them. There was one orc who had a full metal armor on, but his head was missing. It laid on the ground next to its body, which meant it was cut clean. This was not done by elves.
"My lord, we have confirmed all the orcs are dead," One of Maedhros's men came to tell. Maglor glanced at his brother with concern. "Not even a single one managed to escape the assault," Maedhros questioned. "No, all the orcs and wargs are here. There are signs of a struggle, but we are unable to tell who or what did this," His guard explained. Maglor noticed something glittering on the fabric of a destroyed tent. He took a closer look. It was frost. This raised his suspicion tenfold. " I don't think this was done by an elf or a man," He stated. "Are you suspecting there is something out there hunting orcs?" Maedhros asked. "I'm not sure, but it's a possibility," He said. "Well, I hope they're on our side. I don't want to imagine something like this happening to us," Maedhros went to take a look around the destroyed orc camp. Maglor glanced at the frost that was melting from the heat. Frost at the end of summer. It's too soon for winter. He had a strange feeling about this.
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